“How can I help it? You could be killed.”
“I promise you I will take every precaution,” he said lightly, almost jovially.
It disturbed her that he was dismissing the danger so readily.
Evidently Quinn had similar concerns about her, judging by his next statement: “I want you to remain in Somerset. You will be far safer here.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You must be jesting. I won’t cower, either.”
“I am not asking you to cower.”
“Are you not? What is good for the goose…” Quinn was a protector at heart, but she felt the same protectiveness toward him. “Even if our marriage is a sham, I want to accompany you.”
“Our marriage is not a sham.”
“Perhaps not entirely—which bolsters my argument. You are my husband now. My place is by your side.”
His gaze arrested and lit with a sudden glint. “So you are claiming me for your husband?”
She hesitated. “Temporarily, yes. I thought a chief justification for our hasty marriage was that you could save my family from scandal. If I remain in the country so shortly after our nuptials, it will look as if you have abandoned me.”
“True.” He paused a moment, considering her. “You cannot be eager to return to London and deal with your sister and your parents as regards our marriage.”
Venetia felt her heart sink. Her family was yet another reason she would rather postpone her return. No doubt they had been shocked to read the wedding announcement in the papers. By now they would have had time to absorb the news, but they would likely still be furious at having their obedient younger daughter’s splendid marital prospects stolen by their traitorous elder daughter.
“I am not looking forward to that encounter,” Venetia admitted honestly.
“You won’t be alone,” Quinn said reassuringly. “Particularly since I am responsible for our union.”
“I am grateful. But the consequences of our nuptials are trifling compared to the threat to your life.”
He pursed his lips pensively. “I might detour slightly to Portsmouth on the way to London. The construction of my steamship is at a crucial stage, and I want to check the progress. Moreover, I can ascertain if my master builder or engineers have seen any signs of sabotage or the slightest evidence that might implicate my business rival, and if not, to alert them to mount a vigilant watch.”
The longer he delayed the better, Venetia thought. “You did not answer me, Traherne. If you are returning, so am I.”
“I gave you fair warning about using my title, love.” He rose from the table and went to her side. “Your slip warrants a kiss.” With a forefinger, he tipped her chin up, then bent down to capture her mouth.
Venetia was jolted by his abruptness but found herself melting with warmth. By the time he drew back, her entire body was pulsing with need.
“Quinn, then,” she said unsteadily. “I want your answer.”
“I like the sound of my name on your lips.”
At his amused tone, she gazed at him in flustered exasperation. “You are trying to change the subject.”
“Not at all. The discussion is over. We will both have to concede. We leave at first light tomorrow morning.” He paused, letting his gaze sweep down her gown to linger on her breasts. “When I have sent a reply to Hawk by courier, I will visit the cave, if you care to join me. This will be our last chance to enjoy the hot springs.”
Despite her frustration, Venetia recognized his comment as an invitation and suddenly felt her pulse leap. Quinn was right. This would be their last chance to enjoy the cave pool—and to enjoy each other in such uniquely intimate circumstances as well.
—
Venetia spoke little as she followed Quinn along the tunnel to the inner cave, but one word was forefront in her mind: want.
She wanted to end this unbearable sexual tension between them. She wanted to give in to desire. She wanted to know passion with this man. Yet the paralyzing shyness that had suddenly struck her rendered her mute.
She watched silently as Quinn undressed by lamplight. Her concern about his injury was very real, so when his shirt came off, she scrutinized the healing flesh at his waist. The seam looked puckered and red but no longer quite so jagged. Still, she wanted to press her lips against his wound to soothe away the last of the pain.
Then he shed his boots and breeches and Venetia found it difficult to breathe. Her mouth dry, she stood transfixed. He was beautiful, the most riveting man she’d ever beheld, a golden Adonis. His body was perfectly proportioned, rippling with muscle, long-limbed, well endowed. Her stomach contracted at the sight of his swollen manhood, jutting out long and thick from the nest of dark hair at his groin.