Page 21 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

“Tomorrow night we’ll be married,” he said.

She sighed. “That seems a very long time. Kiss me again, please.”

“Oh, Lord,” he murmured. “This is going to kill me.”

He did as she asked, too aware of the warm, lithe body beneath his hands. He drew back again, breathing hard.

“No,” he said sternly. “I don’t have enough willpower for this kind of torture. We must stop now.”

She pouted, her irritation as heartfelt as his own and utterly adorable.

“I think it is going to be a very long night,” she said sadly, and with such gravity Chance burst out laughing.

He stole another kiss, pulling her closer against him. His hand drifted down her back, over her hip, to cup her lovely behind while he tugged her closer still and groaned at the impossibility of it. Too many layers of fabric kept them apart. Stop it, stop it. While you still can. He broke away with a muttered oath.

“We’ll be married tomorrow,” he said, his voice hoarse as he brought himself firmly back under control.

He sat up and pulled Odette with him, before the temptation to get carried away was too strong to resist.

“The snow is melting so we’ll set out for Exeter first thing. My uncle is bishop there. He and my father don’t get alone. It’ll tickle him no end to marry us without his brother’s knowledge. No point in having a bishop in the family if you can’t make use of the fellow.”

“Oh, but he’ll think you’re marrying a… a….” She stared down at her rumpled clothes, at the muddy hem of her gown.

“Don’t fret, love. We’ll buy you something first. Something as beautiful as you are, though you’ll regret it when I’m so dazzled I can’t remember my name.”

“As long as you say oui in all the right places, I shall not mind at all,” she said with a smile. “Merci, Charl— Chance. You make me very ’appy.”