Claiming His Wedding Night

‘I’ll try to be less demanding tonight,’ she said lightly. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready?’

Rolling onto her side, she watched him get dressed. His pale grey shirt was still unbuttoned to the waist and she stared hungrily at the smooth, flat muscles of his stomach. Even half dressed, and with his hair still damp from the shower, there was a glamour to him that set him apart from other people, turned heads. It wasn’t just his looks. It was something to do with that air of detachment, of being alone in a crowd.

Thinking back to his parents’ party, she felt a rush of protectiveness. It was no wonder he had chosen to stay alone, or that he found it so difficult to let people get close to him. But he was changing. Look at how he had opened up to her last night. It might not have been his whole life story, but it had been a brief glimpse into what had made him the man he was. And it was the first time he had ever even hinted that he might need her. And surely with need came love?

She glanced up, her heart aching. She longed to tell him that she loved him but she knew it was too soon. She had barely come to terms with how she felt. If she sprung her feelings on Malachi it would be disastrous. Like trying to put a head collar on a wild mustang. She needed to follow her own advice and be patient. But there was nothing to stop her from showing she cared.

Trying to keep her face as casual as possible, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts. ‘How are you feeling?’

Stepping away from the wardrobe, he turned to face her, frowning. ‘Fine. A little tired.’ The corners of his mouth curled upwards.

She smiled back at him, then hesitated. ‘I actually meant how are you feeling about last night?’

He was still smiling, but the smile was set and still. After a moment he shrugged. ‘That’s fine too.’

Turning away, he reached into the wardrobe and she stared at his back uncertainly. Was that it? Last night he had seemed so desperate, so tormented. But it was clear that as far as he was concerned the conversation was over.

‘Which one?’ He held out two ties for inspection. ‘Or do you not like either of them?’

Pushing aside her thoughts, she looked up at him and frowned. ‘What’s it for again?’

He held her gaze. ‘It’s a meeting with the mayor and the council members.’

‘The blue one, then.’

‘I like the red one.’

‘Then wear the red one.’ Stretching out her legs on top of the sheet, she smiled up at him innocently, her eyes dancing. ‘If you don’t mind looking like a gigolo.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘A gigolo?’

She bit her lip. ‘Maybe you could wear some of those nice stacked shoes we saw in that shop.

His eyes had narrowed and he was moving slowly towards the bed like a predatory animal. ‘Anything else?’

‘A manbag?’ She gave a shriek of laughter as he grabbed hold of her leg and pulled her down the bed towards him, pinning her arms above her head.

‘A manbag...’ he repeated slowly, his eyes roving over her naked body. ‘I’m not sure if I really see myself with one of those. But you might be right about the tie. In fact, I think you might look better wearing it.’

Too late, she read the intent in his eyes. ‘No, Malachi—you can’t!’

‘Oh, but I can,’ he said softly, and the heat in his gaze would have stripped the clothes from her skin if she hadn’t already been naked.

With deliberate slowness he twisted the tie around her wrists and pulled it over the elaborate gilded bedstead, knotting it with one practised hand. Twisting, Addie tried to pull her hands free, but she simply managed to tighten her bonds.

‘There,’ he said softly, letting go of her wrists. ‘I knew it would look better on you.’

He stared down at her, eyes dark with passion and unwavering, and she felt a hot ache spread out over her skin.

‘You can’t leave me tied up here, Malachi,’ she said quickly, trying to push aside the thought that in all probability he could. ‘What about when the maids come to clean the suite?’

He smiled, a long, slow smile. ‘I’ll tell them to leave it until tomorrow.’

‘Malachi! Untie me.’

‘What will you give me if I do?’

‘You need to worry about what I’ll give if you don’t! Now, untie me!’ She stared up at him, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to give him a black eye.