Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)

Miranda didn’t meet his gaze. “With a note from you, Ned shouldn’t have any trouble collecting your new clothes from the tailor.”

“I signed and sanded the note, but it isn’t sealed,” he continued between bites of Yorkshire pudding. “I seem to have lost my signet ring.” Daniel put down his knife and fork and stretched out his right hand. A pale strip of skin outlined the place where his gold ring had been.

“You didn’t lose it, Your Grace.” Miranda walked over to the bedside table and opened the reticule she’d left sitting there. “You gave it to me last night.” She removed the ring from her purse and held it out for him to see. “For safekeeping.”

That surprised him. The only time he ever removed his signet ring was when he practiced boxing at Gentleman Jim’s, and then it was locked in his safe in Sussex House. He never willingly parted with it otherwise. She offered him the ring. Daniel brushed her fingers with his as he took it from her. The slight touch sent a jolt of awareness rushing through him. “Thank you, Miranda,” he said, sliding the ring into place. “I’m grateful.”

She turned and headed for the bedroom door. “You’re welcome, Your Grace.”

“You aren’t leaving?”

“Yes, I am,” Miranda answered.

Daniel frowned. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Very,” she admitted, “but I’ll eat later. Right now, I’d rather have a bath.”

“No doubt,” Daniel agreed.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that while Miranda had bathed him several times, she had been forced to go without. He focused his gaze on a spot to the left of Miranda’s left shoulder in a vain attempt to pretend he hadn’t been affected by the kiss they’d shared or by a barrage of mental images of Miranda in the bath. He fought to keep his body under control while his mind conjured up images of water droplets rolling down the slopes of her breasts, or down the curve of her spine.

And Daniel wasn’t relegated to using his imagination when picturing her naked body, for after kissing him senseless, Miranda had gifted him with a spectacular view of it.

“I’d like you to come back,” he said softly. “After your bath. I’d like to keep you company while you eat your dinner.”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea, Daniel,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because I want to kiss you again,” she answered truthfully. “And I want you to kiss me again.” She bit her bottom lip. “Because I want more than kisses. I want to be a wife, and the one thing you don’t want to be is a husband, so …”

He nodded. “So, you were right to walk away this morning. Things were close to getting out of hand. And as much as I enjoyed kissing you—and I did enjoy it, very much—I was afraid I was in danger of taking what should be reserved for your husband …”

“Daniel,” she began trying to explain. “You don’t understand …”

“Perhaps I don’t understand the desire to be permanently tied to someone else,” he conceded. “But I understand the desire for temporary companionship, and I want you to come back.”

Miranda hesitated. He didn’t understand anything.

Because she hadn’t been able to tell him the truth.

“Please.”

He didn’t understand anything—except that she had a terrible weakness for him. “We’ll see.”

“I won’t touch you,” he promised.

Miranda didn’t appreciate his promise or find the prospect that he might live up to it the least bit appealing. On the contrary. She rather thought that kissing might present a solution to their problem.

Daniel continued. “I’ve been staring at these pink walls all day and I’d appreciate the company.”

She frowned.

“Miranda …”

She had already promised to love, honor, and cherish the dolt. She didn’t know if she had anything left to give. “We’ll see. I can’t promise anything more.”

Chapter Seventeen