Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(119)

“What, exactly, do you find convenient in this situation, my sweet?” he asked. “Everything about this marriage is the most insanely inconvenient set of circumstances I’ve ever experienced, and I expect you feel the same. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you in every way that a man wants his wife, or keep you from wanting me. I see nothing wrong in that.”

He settled his hand at the base of her throat, intensely aware of the fluttering of her pulse through the gauzy fabric that poked out from the top of her bodice.


“And you do want me, don’t you?” he challenged, holding her gaze.

Her pulse leapt under his fingertips. Though her soft lips parted, she seemed lost for words. But Justine was no coward. Her thick, reddish-brown eyelashes fluttered down to shield her eyes from him, but then she slowly and deliberately nodded.

“Yes, I do want you,” she said in a queer voice, as if she couldn’t really believe it. “I shouldn’t, but I do.” She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. “I suppose that makes me something of a fool.”

He gently pushed her chin up with his thumbs. “I thought we’d already decided to be fools together, remember?”

She blinked at him, but then stunned him with a beautiful smile that parted her lips and brought a sparkle to her eyes. The power of that smile slammed into him like a runaway horse.

“What, exactly, do you have in mind?” she asked in a voice that held the barest hint of laughter.

Griffin swept an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, lifting her to her toes. She squeaked, but he silenced her with his mouth, surging between her lips with a hot sweep of desire. The roan snorted, tossed his head, and backed away, clearly vexed by the sudden movement.

With a curse, he pulled her away from the stall. “Speaking of horses,” he muttered, annoyed for not being more careful.

Justine plastered her hands to his chest, steadying herself. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he said. He cast another quick glance around the stables. “Is there anyone else in here? The place seems deserted to me.”

Except for the roan in the stall behind them and the pair of bays at the other end of the row, he thought they had the place to themselves. And given how heavily it still rained, he didn’t expect the groom back from the village for some time yet.

Justine shook her head. “Derek is running errands in the village for Cook, and Potter has gone to Horsham to see about some repairs to Uncle Dominic’s phaeton.”

Griffin drew her down the aisle toward the tack room. “Who the hell are Derek and Potter?”

“Derek is a groom and Potter is Uncle Dominic’s coachman,” she said. “I’m surprised you don’t know them, since they’ve both been with him for years.”

He hustled her into the tack room, latching the door behind him. “It’s bad enough I have to know Dominic. Do I really need to memorize the names of everyone who works for him?”

She rolled her eyes, but her half smile told him she realized he was teasing her.

Griffin’s quick glance inside the tack room earlier had shown him a cot neatly made up in the corner, with several blankets stacked on the end. Putting his arm around Justine’s waist, he swept her past a large worktable covered with tack and various tools, stopping beside the cot.

“What are you doing?” she asked with something that sounded like a nervous giggle. Since Justine never giggled, it was an unexpectedly charming sound.

“Since this is the only place on the entire bloody estate where I can be alone with my wife, I thought I’d take the opportunity to make love to her.” He turned her to face him and began unbuttoning her habit, his fingers uncharacteristically clumsy in his haste to get her undressed. If he didn’t get her under him soon, he thought he would go insane with lust.