“At least I can see your face. And lips.” He stared hungrily at the spot he mentioned. Then, wrapping his arms around her he pulled her in for a kiss.
Good heavens, she thought the one in the church was scandalous, this one had her wanting to remove all the layers of their clothing and feel him skin-to-skin. Whatever was wrong with her?
She desired her husband, ‘twas that simple.
He pulled back and nudging the veil away from her ear with his chin, he whispered. “Let’s tell the driver to pass Hunt’s house and go directly to the hotel.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, tilting her head for better access. “What hotel?”
He kissed his way across her skin to her face, offering tiny kisses to her jaw, cheeks, and eyes. His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “The hotel room I rented for three days for our honeymoon.”
“All we get is three days?” she murmured.
“And nights.” His lasts words were smothered on her lips and the hunger there sent shock waves through her entire body. “And if things go as planned, Mrs. Rose, we won’t be able to walk after three days anyway.”
Just as she thought she would melt into a puddle on the floor of the carriage, he pulled back and studied her as he moved his finger over her swollen lips. “Let’s skip the breakfast. The only thing I’m hungry for is you.”
“We can’t do that.” She placed her hands on his chest and moved him back. His strength, warmth and scent made it impossible to think straight. “Diana, and Driscoll’s wife, Amelia, have gone to a great deal of work.” She attempted to re-arrange herself, since it appeared they drew close to Hunt’s townhouse.
Dante pushed her veil aside and kissed the back of her neck, nuzzling the space between her head and shoulder. She swatted at him. “Stop that. I need to look presentable.”
“Presentable to me is naked and lying in bed.”
She giggled and elbowed him. “If you don’t behave yourself. . .”
“I never behave myself.” He growled. “You love it, and it’s too much fun not to.”
The carriage came to a rolling stop and Dante sighed. “Can you at least eat fast?”
She turned and glared at him. “I expect you to be gracious and your usual charming self.”
“I shall be so charming the ladies will be falling at my feet.” He climbed out of the carriage and extended his hand.
Her eyes narrowed. “I have a hat pin in my reticule. I will use it if you are too charming to the female guests.”
He grinned. “I was jesting.” He touched her chin, his smile fading. “Those days are over, Lydia. I promised you. You are my wife and all I want. And need.”
Her insides turned to mush, and she felt like telling the driver herself to head for the hotel. He looked sincere, but based on his life thus far, only time would tell if she could genuinely trust a rogue. Although she’d heard for years that reformed rakes made the best husbands.
But that was usually the case because they fell head over heels in love with their wives. As did Hunt and Driscoll, two other rogues. But Dante?
“Stop thinking so much, love. Let’s get this breakfast over with, then off to the hotel.”
It had seemed numerous hours had passed before Dante had finally convinced Lydia that it was certainly proper for them to leave the breakfast and be on their way. They’d greeted the guests, mingled and chatted with glasses of champagne in hand, and eaten the lovely food Hunt’s cook had prepared. Although he’d noticed Lydia barely ate, mostly pushing her food around on her plate.
Was she as anxious as he was to have this part of the day over? If so, most likely for different reasons than his. Despite her forward thinking, she was still a virgin and had to be a tad uneasy with what came after the little bit of intimacy they’d already shared. Although he hoped Diana had at least given her some idea of what to expect.
Toasts had been offered, as well as slaps on his back from Hunt, Driscoll and numerous friends. He’d listened to remarks about the parson’s noose, leg-shackling, the end of life as he knew it. Thrown in were some comments not proper for ladies’ ears.
He’d made his way over to his wife who had long ago shed her veil and her shoes. She waved her hand around as she spoke with her cousin, Marion. At his approach she looked up at him in a way that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and make his way out of the blasted house.
Now they were finally settled in the carriage on the way to the hotel. Attempting to keep himself under control until they reached their destination, he took her hand in his. “Did you enjoy the breakfast?”
She leaned back on the squab and sighed. “Yes, it was lovely.”
“But long.”
She attempted to look cross, but a smile broke out. “Yes. Long. Just like our wedding ceremony.”