Every Scandalous Secret by Gayle Callen

Every Scandalous Secret by Gayle Callen

Author:Gayle Callen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harper Collins, Inc.
Published: 2011-09-26T21:00:00+00:00


Chapter 13

Susanna slowly emerged from sleep, feeling so very warm, as if she floated in a cocoon that kept out not only the cold, but even the most unpleasant thoughts. She’d been so exhausted that emerging from her deep sleep seemed . . . confusing. She didn’t want to leave the safety, didn’t want to remember—

Her marriage.

Her new husband was flush against her back, his thighs against hers, his hips cradling her backside.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wade,” he murmured against her neck.

The soft press of his lips took her by surprise, as did the very obvious erection against her backside. Her first impulse was to jump up and flee, but that would only either amuse or anger him. Either way, he would feel like he had the upper hand.

And right now, his hand was moving slowly up her rib cage.

She gripped him by the wrist and lifted it away from her. “Excuse me. I thought I might have embarrassed myself by moving toward your warmth in the night, but since I’m still on my side of the bed, I can see what happened.”

She sat up, betraying no urgency, no dismay. Because some deep part of her had responded to his warmth, to his very maleness. She’d wanted to roll over, press against him, and learn everything—everything—about him. Even after all he’d done, how he’d trapped her for eternity. He had some kind of control over her body that bewildered her.

Looking over her shoulder, she said, “I do believe it’s time to depart Scotland.”

He sank onto his back and stretched, eyes closed, which allowed her to take in the stubble of his beard, the intimidating width of his chest, the way his spine arched, and how his muscles stretched over bone. Fascinating. She gave a little start, even as her fingers itched for a pencil.

But he was . . . different this morning, his expression one of peace. She could only conclude he was satisfied that he’d gotten everything he wanted from this marriage.

Well, not everything, she reminded herself. And he hadn’t insisted on his husbandly rights. Much as she’d been angry when she’d denied him—she was still angry—she was rational enough to realize that he was being patient with her. He’d always been able to have any woman he wanted, and now his own wife had denied him. That could have sent many men into a towering rage. But not Leo.

“We aren’t leaving today, Mrs. Wade,” he said, as his eyes half opened to take in her disheveled state.

“Staying here won’t change anything.”

“But it will rest our coachman, who stayed awake through the night to see us love-struck fools safely married. I think he deserves another day of rest.”

She pressed her lips together, a bit embarrassed that she hadn’t considered the poor man and reluctantly grateful that Leo had. “Of course.”

“No need to amuse yourself. I can give you all the attention you need.”

As he reached his hand toward her hip, she stood up. “Unlike a young debutante you might have married, I need little of your attention.



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