“Quit your prattling. We have a convention to attend. Wife?” George held out his hand for Fia.
Once the couple approached the door, the gentleman selling tickets broke into a deep smile. “Well, well, well. The first wives of the night.” Glancing between George and Fia, and then Egan and Sofie, a glimmer of doubt traced across his face.
“These are your wives, aren’t they?”
Egan stepped up to the man and stood to his full height, “You really think I’d come all this waynotknowing the policies of the convention and then purchase a ticket for a beautiful woman who wasnotmy wife?”
Thebeautifulleaked out. But the rest did the trick.
Stammering, the ticket seller clapped his hands together. “Of course not. Here are your tickets. We’ll prepare your seats at dinner and a room for the night at the tavern across the street.” He pointed to the Christmas-clad building.
Through the window, Egan could make out the name: The Drunken Unicorn. He groaned inwardly. What were the chances?
“We won’t be needing those. We’re leaving after the lecture.”
“We’ll save them all the same. Never know how long the lecture will be.” The man winked at George and laughed. “Better get in there now. It’s about to start any minute.”
The four walked into the lecture hall and found seats against the back wall. Fia walked in first, followed by George, then Sofie, and Egan trailed. Egan watched as the four of them began taking their seats. This was not the seating arrangement that fit his needs.
“George, switch with Fia.”
“I like this spot,” said George, who had already slouched down and found a curve just right for his behind.
“No, no, no. With you in between these jabbering two, I know how this is going to turn out. Swap.”
“But–”
“Now.” Like a child reprimanded, George stood up and switched spots. “But I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Oh, you’re such a grump.” Sofie’s tone was no harsher than usual, but he felt the sting of it. “If I want to whisper through the whole thing, I will. I still have Fia.” Egan grabbed her by the arms and gently lifted her to his other side.
“Now if you want to whisper, you have to settle for me.” But he didn’t meansettle. He meant that he really wanted to feel her soft breath of life trickling into his ear. And if he had any say about it, he’d make it happen. So he did.
“Makes no difference to me,” momentarily, Sofie turned her back on him to find her seat. He held his breath until she turned back to him.
And for the next one hundred and twenty minutes, Egan questioned his sanity. When Sofie said she would talk if she wanted to, that was true. Every few minutes she would whisper a question or thought to him, not necessarily keen on a reply, but more to process the information she was receiving. And each time she spoke, he would lean into the warm breath. He couldn’t get enough of her breath. What the devil was happening to him? This was George’s interest. And not only that, she was a barmaid, despite the fancy dress she had donned. He had to keep reminding himself of his place in the world. But the only place he envisioned was a bed. With Sofie.
Egan groaned.
“What’s the matter?”
He looked down into her deep umber eyes and almost leaned in to kiss her. What stopped him was the concern that flagged in her eyes.
“Are you alright, Egan?”
He rubbed his jaw. Mostly to tell his face not to move any closer. “Yes. Just dandy.” Or randy. Whichever came second.
“It’s almost over, and then we can leave.”
Great. Several more hours together. In a confined space.
Hell.
Chapter 7
THEYWEREN’TSUPPOSEDTOgo for dinner. Yet here they were, standing just inside the Christmas-clad tavern. Decorations were everywhere. And if Sofie had been able to enjoy them, she wouldn’t have been thinking the singular word that was currently on her mind.
