Twelfth Night Betrothal

Chapter 6

Heather did her best not to stare at Flynn. Unable to get over her embarrassment after kissing him like a wanton in the morning, she had avoided him all afternoon, but she knew there would be no avoiding him during the banquet. As she’d been too ashamed to tell Will about the heated kiss she and Flynn had shared, her friend had no idea she would want nothing more than to disappear into her bedchamber. Most likely he would be concocting another idea to bring them together tonight.

How would she endure it?

She could still feel the imprint of Flynn’s body pressed against hers, big, strong, and unyielding. They had been fully dressed and wrapped in thick cloaks and yet it had been the most erotically charged moment of her life. Even before the kiss she had been unbearably aroused. How had he managed to stir her senses by doing nothing more than to eat candied ginger and drink spiced mead?

She had been right to leave when she had done, though, for she would have surrendered to her desire for him otherwise, thereby compromising whatever chance she had of holding his interest. Men did not want their wives to be wanton. They wanted respectable, demure females—she’d heard it said enough times.

From his place across the room, Flynn looked at her. Her lips instantly started to tingle and something loosened in her stomach. She could not make sense of the sensation. Then he rubbed his jaw and she understood that it was desire for him. Here, in the middle of a crowded room, she wanted him to walk up to her, take her into his arms and kiss her again.

And he saw it.

He saw it as clearly as if she had announced it out loud to all the guests. His eyes seemed to catch fire and he clenched his jaw. He wanted her too, she realized, wanton or not. Her whole chest heated and her legs turned to water.

It was then she knew she would have to feign an illness and disappear. She would never survive a whole night sitting next to Flynn under the eyes of everyone. She would only betray the unseemly complicity between them.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lady,” she told the Countess of Redding. “I think I caught a chill this afternoon at the lake.”

“By all means. You do look a bit flushed, you know.” The woman gestured to a servant who was charged to accompany her back to her room.

She left without a glance at Flynn.

****

“Any idea why that lady might be glaring at you?”

Flynn’s velvety voice reached Heather’s ear. She shivered and fought the urge to close her eyes. The man truly was blessed with the most enticing voice, one that would make any woman swoon.

“What lady?” she croaked, doing her best not to betray her turmoil. Perhaps if she didn’t look at him she would succeed in remaining composed. A night away from him had helped to cool the heat in her veins, and she felt almost restored to her usual self this morning.

“The tall one over there by the bushes?”

Lady Garfield, then. Indeed she was glowering at her, just like she had last night. Heather sighed.

“Is she an enemy? Do you want me to go and have words with her? I could skewer her, you know. You only have to say the word.”

Heather’s mouth twitched. As if he would put his sword through a lady for staring at her! “No. She’s glaring at me because… Well. I-I may have assaulted her in bed last night.”

“I beg your pardon?” Flynn almost choked on the words. He sounded so stunned that she couldn’t help a giggle. And, just like that, any awkwardness between them disappeared and the old complicity was back. Life flowed back in her veins. He did not think less of her for her behavior the previous day. After all, if he had thought her unforgivably wanton, he wouldn’t have sought her out, would he?

She finally turned to face him.

“That woman is Lady Garfield, the one I am sharing a room with. She woke me up in the middle of the night saying that I…I had started to stroke her in my sleep.” At Flynn’s appreciative whistle she went bright red. “Of course I never meant to actually do anything. I was dreaming.”

“You do surprise me. You’re saying that your tastes don’t run to lanky females with cold eyes and puckered mouths?”

She giggled again. Really, he was irresistible. “No.” Rather they ran to strong knights with smoldering eyes and wicked mouths, just like the one staring at her with a smile curling his lips. “I had a hard time persuading her it was a mistake.”

“Mm. I bet.” He tilted his head. “So tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What were you dreaming about, if not of stroking the forbidding Lady Garfield?”

You! I was dreaming of stroking you, of the kiss we shared yesterday, of what I would have liked us to do after it.

She reddened further. “I can’t remember now.”

He just stared at her, eyes aflame. The heat on her cheeks spread to all parts of her body. Oh, he knew, he knew she remembered all too well that she had been dreaming of him, so vividly that she had actually reached out to the body next to her and started enacting her fantasies!

“Pity. I think I would have liked to hear what made you touch the lady intimately. Well, we have established something, at least. Lady Garfield is a fool.” He leaned in, swamping her with his masculine presence. “If I had woken up with your hands roaming all over my body, I can assure you I would not have stopped you. I might well have begged you to allow me to return the favor.”

Oh, heavens! This man would be able to talk a woman into anything, even such scandalous things.

Just then a feminine voice spoke from behind her.

“My lady, would you join us for a game of pall mall? We are one player short.”

Though at the moment hitting a ball with a mallet in the company of women who would tell her George had been the most accomplished player they had ever seen was the last thing she wanted to do, the distraction was welcome. Heather nodded. She had been about to beg Flynn to take her somewhere private and allow her to roam her hands all over his body like she had in her dream and, judging from the look in his eyes, he would have complied all too readily. The thought was intoxicating…

Dangerous.

“I would be delighted. If you’ll excuse me, my lord?”

He gave an elegant bow, but not before she saw his mouth quirk at the use of his title. “But certainly, my lady. I would not want to stand in the way of your enjoyment.”

The wretched man! He knew she didn’t really want to go and was only escaping his perverting influence.

She followed Lady Felton without a word.