She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. “How about I sleep with you because you’re my husband, and I really enjoyed every part of last night.”
Her words had my heart doing a little flip. I pulled her even further into my chest and pressed my lips to hers. Again, on a logical level, this made no sense. If she were my wife, kissing her would be as natural as spring. Since our marriage was fake, I shouldn’t have every inch of my body pressed against hers. I shouldn’t be teasing her lips with my tongue until they separated to let me in. I definitely shouldn’t be getting hard against the rough material of my jeans. Even with her kissing me back. Even with her in my jacket and clinging to me like a lifeline, there was one too manyshouldn’tson my mind.
I pulled back.
She licked her lips and searched my face. “What’s wrong?”
I reluctantly let my hands drop to my side, instantly missing the feel of her waist. “I don’t know what the rules are here, and I don’t want to make a wrong assumption and make you uncomfortable. We’re married, and we did some kissing for the camera. Now it’s just the two of us. Everything I do with you, I do because I want to. Since being here, this whole thing between us is feeling very…”
Her eyes were wide. “Very what?”
“Very right? Very real?” I fought to keep my eyes on hers, needing to see her reaction. “Kissing you feels right. Falling asleep with you feels right. I find myself forgetting that you area rich, celebrity heiress, especially when you’re here in Canada with me.” I took a deep breath. “I just don’t want to be making more of this than you are. It’ll hurt too much when you go.”
She blinked and chewed the inside of her cheek. “We don’t know each other well enough for this to feel right.”
The coffee in my stomach turned, but she went on before I could step away.
“It does, though. For me too. The whole situation is complicated. With no cell service, I have no idea how my family and the media have been spinning us leaving. You and even Charlotte have had my back more in the last few days than anyone in my life ever has. I know the public scrutiny can be a lot, and you will probably get to a point where you wonder if it’s worth it.”
“I won’t.” The idea that anything would push me away from her felt laughable already.
“So, where does that leave us then?”
I licked my lips and thought before I answered. There was a reason I went into trades. My practical skills were second to none, but I was no Shakespeare. All I could do was be as honest and direct as possible, and hope she wasn’t expecting poetry. “I don’t know how to label it, but I’d like it to be you and me against the world.”
“Sounds perfect.” A smile spread across her face, and I pulled her to my chest again. She snuggled into me. “Derek?”
“Hmm?”
“This is really nice, and I’m glad we talked, but you smell like dead fish.”
I laughed. “That is the smell of a husband who brought home dinner.” I grabbed the fish out of the cooler by the gills. “Would you like to gut it, since I caught it?” I held it out towards her, and she shrieked.
“Derek Rutherford, you get that thing away from me.” She started to run off the porch, and I chased after her.
“Come on, wifey, don’t you want to see what I caught you?”
“Not until it’s filleted and cooked,” she said between shrieks.
She ran a few more steps and hid behind a tree. I wanted to pursue her. Catch her around the waist, throw us both to the ground, and have fast, dirty, animal sex in the mud. If my hands weren’t covered in bait and fish scales, I might have.
My wife may be less of a spoiled media princess than the world believed. But dead fish stink was a step too far when it came to romance. Even for me. “Fine, you win. I’ll gut it, put it in the fridge, and get cleaned up. Wouldn’t want to offend my wife’s delicate sense of smell.”
She peeked out at me from around the tree. “I’ll just stay here until you’re done.”
I laughed and got to work.
The next few days felt like a honeymoon. Hiking through the forest, quiet dinners for two, and lots and lots of sex. I even managed to get Rosalind to try fly fishing, although she preferred to stick to taking pictures.
There was no computer or laptop at the cabin, but from what I could see on the little camera screen, she had a real talent for photography. Her favorite subject was me, so maybe I was biased.
Eventually, our coffee supply started to run low, so Sunday morning, only one week after I woke up in Rosalind’s mansion with a ring on my finger and a pounding in my head, we loaded up my truck and headed for Springwood.
Chapter 14
Rosalind
Iwatched out the window as the trees grew thinner and we got closer to Springwood. I was oddly nervous to see the city where Derek lived.
