Alexandra sucked in her breath. Herhands moved nervously at her sides.
“Put your arms around my waist,” hecommanded her.
“You do not need to be so…..so…”
“Domineering? Arrogant? Full ofmyself?”
She struggled not to smile. “I wasgoing to say overbearing.”
Gently, he took her hands and placed themon his waist. His whole being radiated with some emotion he wasn’tprepared to name at her touch. He pulled her against his chest.
“I want you.” He enunciated eachword into her hair.
Alexandra swayed against him. Herhands ran over his back. She snuggled against him before pullingaway. An odd look came over her face.
“Why? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” How to explain toher that he’d desired her from the moment he’d seen her in Lord Dobson’slibrary? He couldn’t explain it himself.
Alexandra said nothing for amoment. “I see.” Gray eyes flashed. The tiny chin lifted at amulish tilt. A curl popped from its confines. She wet her lipsnervously. “I suppose that will have to do.”
Sutton grabbed the back of her head andtook her lips in a possessive kiss that left no room for his intentions to bemisconstrued. Her mouth opened under his, tongues twining abouteach other.
Alexandra sighed. The shawl fell to thefloor exposing the tops of her breasts. Another curl sprang free.
He pulled his mouth from hers and gaveher a hard look. “This wedding can not happen soon enough. Consideryourself betrothed. Again.”
TWENTY-FOUR
The wedding ceremony took place at GrayCovington. Sutton did not wish to marry in London, surrounded by thecurious glare of society and Jeanette’s malicious tongue. The Dowagerproduced a minister who claimed to have married Sutton’s parents.Reverend Winkle was old and shriveled, like an overripe apple. His coatsmelled of mothballs, and he had to be assisted into Gray Covington by a braceof footmen, each instructed not to allow the Reverend Winkle tofall. Due to the circumstances surrounding the marriage, only theDowager and Miranda were present.
“My lady?” A footman appeared atAlexandra’s elbow intending to serve her a slice of roasted pheasant. Shenodded in approval and tried to enjoy her wedding dinner. Nervous,but trying desperate not to show it, she pretended to examine thepheasant. The food smelled delicious, but Alexandra had no appetite.
Her husband watched her down the long,beautifully set table while Miranda chattered enthusiastically to the partiallydeaf Reverend Winkle.
“How is your pheasant, my dear?,” inquiredthe Dowager.
“The pheasant is exceedingly delicious,” Alexandramurmured. She put her wineglass to her lips. Her mind keptwandering. What awaited her after this extravagant dinner? She felt theheat rise in her cheeks.
“I was not aware of my bride’s love forpheasant. I was under the impression she favored peacock.”
Alexandra sputtered and choked on thewine.
Amused at her discomfort, a smile hoveredon her husband’s lips.
She gave him an evil glare. Vileman!
The Dowager looked at them bothaskance. “May we continue with dinner or must I endure more of what Iassume passes for flirtation?”
“Flirtation? Grandmother we arespeaking of fowl! Birds!” Sutton lifted his brows in confusion.
“Hmmph.” The Dowager stabbed at herpheasant with her fork. Alexandra could see she was trying not to laugh.
The rest of the dinner passed in ablur. By the time the dessert was served, an elaborate cherry confectionthat the cook had shaped into a heart, Alexandra found herself nearly burstingfrom her seat with fear and anticipation.
“Lady Reynolds?” Sutton’s voicedspilled over her in a caress. Without her knowing, he’d left his seat andnow stood at her side. “I believe it’s time we retired.” He tookAlexandra’s arm. “Grandmother, Miranda, we bid you a good night.”
Sutton guided her to the bottom of thestairs where Alexandra’s newly assigned maid, Sadie, stood waiting.
