Counting on a Countess by Eva Leigh

Author:Eva Leigh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“I have an errand to run,” Tamsyn announced offhandedly.

Sitting at the breakfast table, Kit looked up from sorting through a stack of invitations. After their appearance at the theater, word had apparently gotten out that he and his new wife were out in public. Now he and Tamsyn received invitations by the heap, including social functions with some of the ton’s most respected figures. When he’d been a bachelor, the requests for his presence had come with a little less frequency, likely because everyone knew he wouldn’t go anywhere that was part of the Season’s sanctioned events.

Tamsyn gazed at him with an easy smile, the morning light painting her in soft hues as she sat beside him at the table. She showed no signs of her worry that, after last night’s heated kiss, he’d lunge across the table and ravish her in the breakfast room.

He was still reeling from it, how fast and hot the desire between them could rise up. He’d known from the beginning that they shared a powerful chemistry, and to his surprise, he saw that the more he knew of her, the more he desired her.

Kit felt himself set at a constant simmer. He’d been chaste for too long, having had to resort to hard, fast wanks before being able to fall asleep. Yet more than that, he wanted to know what would happen once he and Tamsyn finally let go—and how brightly they would burn.

She had to feel the attraction between them, too—last night had shown him that. Unguarded, she’d given voice to and acted on the pull of desire that had them circling each other like hawks in a mating dance. Now she gazed at him with warm familiarity, either pretending that last night hadn’t happened or that it didn’t affect her.

He wanted her, yes, and he craved having her close. He yearned to wake up beside her and hold her closely as she stirred from sleep. Kit had always believed it the height of banality to discuss dreams, and yet he wanted to hear his wife’s. Did she journey to places of happiness or fear? And if she did dream of fearful things, he wanted to be there beside her to offer comfort.

Despite her relaxed manner today, she was a little pale, most likely from the aftereffects of drink. He was slightly tender in the head this morning, but he’d developed a strong constitution when it came to alcohol. Still, despite recovering from intoxication, she’d risen at a decent time—which was notably different from ninety-five percent of the ton, sober or crapulous.

“I can accompany you,” he answered. It might provide more insight into who she was—though after the last few nights, he recognized her courage and determination.

“You’d find it dull,” she replied lightly. “And a carriage is a very uncomfortable place to take a nap.”

“Anything dull I can make amusing.” He’d gotten through the worst of the War’s tedium by finding ways to entertain his men. They’d have knife-throwing contests, and dirty

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