How did he tell her that she belonged with him? Not on some grand adventure but right here with him.
Then again, he wouldn’t mind going off with her. Just as long…as long as they were together.
Would that anger her? She was fiercely independent. He didn’t wish to suffocate her, just…just be with her. Next to her.
“I wouldn’t go anywhere until I knew my sisters were absolutely safe,” she replied.
“Of course.” It was his turn to tense. Because once this was all done, once they’d figured out who threatened her family, they could figure out, well, them. Where did he stand? What did her future look like? Could he be part of it?
Part of him wanted to tell her how he felt. That he was in love with her, but right now, as they tried to keep her family safe, that felt selfish.
He’d solve this mystery and then he’d convince her to have not just a marriage of convenience, but one where they shared their lives and her adventures.
He grinned against her hair. He could picture her on the deck of a ship in men’s pants, firing off orders. She’d be glorious.
“We’ve yet to decide any details for our wedding,” he said rather than say any of the other thousand thoughts running through his head.
“No.” She smiled at him then. “We haven’t.”
“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”
Her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. “I wasn’t. I’ll let Isabella or Emily decide.”
That made him wince. Shouldn’t the bride care about the details of the wedding?
“But I am curious. What you just did to me. Is there a male equivalent? Can I do that to you?”
All thoughts of the wedding and even his hurt feelings left his head at those words. “Eliza,” he started, just picturing her hand down his trousers made him hard as stone. Hell, he’d been like granite since the day he’d met her.
She started at his collarbone and began sliding her hand along his chest. “You’re going to have to help me with the falls of your breeches. I couldn’t get my own trousers off tonight.”
Just remembering those trousers had him groaning as he pulled at the buttons, loosening his stays. She caressed lower still, across his stomach as his manhood strained against the fabric still covering him.
But when she finally moved past his shirt and touched his bare skin, he moaned as he felt the warm silkiness of her palm against his flesh.
And then her fingertips were sliding up his staff as light as his had been. Damn her but she was a quick study, already mimicking his touch.
“Eliza,” he said, his voice rough. “There’s no need to be gentle. I swear, I might explode from wanting.”
“Shhhh,” she replied and then lightly kissed a trail against his neck. “I’ve never touched a man before and I want to enjoy every second.”
His eyes slid closed as she wrapped her hand about him. What was it about knowing that this was only for him, that she had only ever touched him?
And then his eyes snapped open. They’d made a business arrangement. Did that mean she’d be with other men while she was off seeing the world?
He let out a growl of dissention and her hand stilled. “Did I do it wrong?”
No. She’d touched him exactly right. And he had absolutely no intention of allowing her to touch another man. Ever.
He wrapped his hand about hers and slowly began working it up and down his staff. “No. Your touch is perfect.”
“Your skin is like velvet. Does every man feel like this?”
Another grumble rolled deep in his throat. “I wouldn’t know,” he answered between clenched teeth.
She gave him the smallest squeeze. “Are all men this thick? You’re rather well…”
Now that he didn’t mind discussing at all. “No. They’re not. And I have it on very good authority that a member like mine feels particularly enjoyable.” There. She needn’t think of other men at all.