He ran his palm over his chin and jaw. “I trust that was adequate?”
She bit back a snort at that understatement. “You couldn’t tell?”
He shrugged. “You seemed to enjoy it, but women can feign pleasure far better than men. I didn’t make you scream my name, after all.”
“Perhaps I forgot it?” She couldn’t resist the teasing barb; his confidence deserved a little deflating. “Or perhaps I’ve made it a rule never to say a name, in case I get it wrong.”
His lips twitched at her cheek. “You have so many lovers you’re worried about confusing them?”
She sent him an arch smile and refused to be drawn. Let him think he had plenty of competition.
“It’s Justin,” he reminded her softly. “And youwillsay it. I promise you.”
His arrogance was breathtaking, but she couldn’t deny the shiver of anticipation at his vow. “We’ll see.”
“I’ll work on my technique.”
Tess tried to look wholly indifferent, but she was burning up inside.Good God. If his technique improved any more, her heart would give out.
She was saved from having to answer as the coach turned into Portman Square and rocked to a stop in front of Wansford House. She made her escape, but couldn’t resist a glance back up at him through the open carriage door.
His dark beauty made her catch her breath. How on earth had she become entangled with such a man? She was out of her depth, but drowning wasnotan option.
Thornton leaned forward. “I still plan to announce our engagement tomorrow, but I have some business that will require my full attention for the next couple of days. You’re going to have to face theton’s inevitable speculation alone, I’m afraid.”
Tess shrugged. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. But are you so sure you’ll be able to get a special license?”
“I don’t foresee a problem. Charles Manners-Sutton, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was a good friend of my father’s. In fact, he’s my godfather.”
“How convenient,” she murmured faintly.
“Indeed. So I suspect the next time I see you will be at our wedding ceremony on Saturday. Make sure you sign the marriage documents I will send you. And spend whatever you like for the wedding. Send the bills to me.”
Tess nodded.
“You were right,” he said suddenly.
“About what?”
“Waiting. It only increases the desire.” His gaze ran over her in a searing caress, then he rapped on the roof of the carriage to tell the driver to move on. “Good night, Scarlet.”
“It’s Tess,” she countered. “And I’ll makeyousay it, too.”
The humor returned to his gaze, and she felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure that she could make this stern man smile. Despite his enviable position, the successes he’d had in life, she had the feeling that he didn’t smile enough.
“Challenge accepted.”
Justin sank back in his seat with a soul-deep sigh as the carriage sprung forward.
He resisted the urge to watch Tess through the window as she turned and mounted the steps in front of Wansford House. Resisted the urge to stop the carriage, bound up the steps after her, carry her up to bed, and make love to her until they were both sweaty and thoroughly exhausted.
God, he was like a man possessed. He could still see the image of her in the seat opposite, her hair mussed from the velvet, her lips puffy and pink from his kisses. It was burned in his memory like a brand.
His cock throbbed insistently and he readjusted himself in his breeches with little hope that it would subside any time soon. The scent of her clung to his fingers, the sleeve of his shirt where he’d wiped his face after pleasuring her. A man could get addicted to that scent.
Toher.
He took a perverse satisfaction from the fact that he’d given her pleasure but denied himself. She’d cared for him at Careby’s, and he’d returned the favor tonight. It made them equal. Although why, precisely, that was important, except perhaps to assuage his natural preference for order, he was at a loss to explain.
