Page 168 of Kathryn

He cocked his head.

How did he manage to be more intimidating when he didn’t speak?

“Why are you asking me this now, Gerrit?”

“Fowler will be at Wych House for Christmas, won’t he?”

“Yes, along with Letty, his new wife. You have nothing to—”

“Did you kiss him, Kathryn?”

She swallowed down her teasing response—judging by the glitter in his pale gaze now was not the time—and shook her head. “I did not kiss Angus.”

“Will there be anyone else at your family’s party who was on the list?”

“No.”

He made a rumbling sound deep in his chest. “Good.”

Katie reached out and carded her fingers through his hair. He’d let it grow for her and it was just as gorgeously curly as she’d suspected. She pulled as she stroked, and his eyelids became heavy, the suspicion and anger that had been there only seconds before draining away.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he demanded.

“Correct.”

He barked a laugh and then slid both his hands around her face and drew her closer, until they were scarcely an inch apart, and he kissed her nose, the warm, no-longer-so-rare smile on his face.

“I need to work on my subtle manipulating techniques, do I?”

“No. You are quite skilled enough as it is—as you are well aware.” He kissed her. “You are a very wicked girl.”

“I think you like that about me.”

“I do like that. I like everything about you,” he murmured.

“Everything?” she teased.

“Everything except the way you use your knights to humiliate and destroy me.”

Katie laughed.

He rubbed their noses together before releasing her.

Katie straightened up, biting back a grimace at the twinge in her back. She was no longer as flexible as she’d been even a month ago. She looked down at her husband, lightly stroking her palm over his sharp cheekbone. “I’m sure there are plenty of things you dislike about me—or at least things that you don’t care for.”

“No.”

“Why do I think you are fibbing?”

“I do not fib.” He gave her a stern look, but the slight curve of his lips gave him away. “Now, about your list—”

She covered her eyes with one hand and groaned. “I don’t want to think about that dreadful list or who was on it. I wish everyone could just forget that night and—”

“I won’t forget it.”

“Oh, Gerrit! Please can’t we—”

“Why would I want to forget the night I met the woman I love?”