“Why’s that?” he asked as he watched her shimmy the gown over her hips. They wiggled back and forth until the gown could pull over them. He raked his fingers through his hair, giving the strands several good tugs. Pain was the only solution to curb his desire.
She faced the window. “My humiliation will be complete.” Then she looked back at him. “Unless, of course, you agree to marry me.”
Bad’s mouth dropped open. “Marry you?” He’d already known this was a possibility. She could be ruined for this little adventure and she had no other options for a husband. But somehow hearing her say the words was different and if he’d taken advantage of her last night… Or rather, if she’d taken advantage of him. “Is that why you were trying to seduce me last night?”
Her gasp was the first indicator that he’d said something wrong. She flew around the bed, her gown still gaping off her front, then her hand whistled through the air as it landed with a crack on his face. “How dare you?” she shrieked loud enough to wake the dead.
She raised her hand again, but this time he refused to let her hit him. He caught the hand and then she attempted to hit him with the other, which he captured as well. She tried to yank away, twisting wildly and he was honestly afraid she might hurt herself. Giving her a tug, he easily brought her back on the bed where she commenced trying to kick him.
One landed on his shin and with a grunt, he rolled on top of her. Her head twisted back and forth as her cheeks grew increasingly pink. Rather than deter him, he found the sight rather arousing and when her head finally stopped, he dropped his forehead to hers. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”
She stared at him. “You’re a beast. You know that.”
“I do,” he answered.
Chapter Seven
The second the retort left his lips, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. He’d just explained that he considered himself unworthy.
He deserved her anger. She’d kissed him last night, not because she’d been trying to trap him, but because she couldn’t help herself and it hurt to think he considered her a scheming female. How could he lump her with the likes of Abernath? “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he answered. Suddenly, he jumped off her, rising from the bed.
She gave a loud sniff. “It matters to me.” And she rose too. There was little room for him to leave and he started for the door. He wouldn’t actually leave her, would he? “Ben,” she choked out, fear strangling her voice.
He turned back. “Grace.”
“Don’t leave me again.” She reached for him then. “Please.”
He only hesitated a moment before he reached for her, pulling her back into his arms. “I won’t.”
“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you,” she whispered. In every interaction, they seemed to hurt one another, and Grace realized she was often attempting to protect herself. But somehow, that wasn’t working. They weren’t understanding one another. “I just find you to be…”
He leaned back. “What?”
She licked her lips, preparing herself to admit this out loud. “Difficult to resist.”
He quirked a brow. “That is encouraging.” Then he slowly backed up. “Get dressed. We’ll eat and leave within the hour.” Then he turned away to ready himself.
Grace frowned at his back. That was it? She’d admitted she was attract
ed to him and all he could say was that it was encouraging?
She shook her head.
Within the hour, they had, in fact, set off for London. Once again using Crusher’s coach, Grace had chosen the ride on the seat next to him rather than inside the carriage. She sat next to him in the cool morning air, with her arms wrapped about her waist. When they’d left after noon the day before, the air had been warm and sunny. And she’d hardly noticed the cold last night. But this morning, it seeped into her bones.
Hunching over, she resisted the urge to snuggle into Ben’s side. She knew he’d be radiating heat and comforting physically, of course. But what would she lose for giving him the satisfaction? Most likely, another comment that left her weak with disappointment.
He moved the reins to one hand and shrugged off his coat. He couldn’t be hot, could he? She glared at him, as if his very body temperature were set to insult her. Fortunately, she held her tongue as he dropped the coat around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”
“Thank you,’ she murmured, pulling the jacket tight about her. “How’s your leg?”
“Fine,” he answered, grimacing at the rip in his pants. “But these were my favorite breeches.”
She gave a small smile as she reached out a hand from under his large coat to touch the tear. “I can mend them for you. My stitches are quite good. It’s one of the few things I am known for in my family.”
He looked to her. “What else are you known for?”