“Excellent. Let’s not have impending nuptials end our hobby of ravaging each other. I wouldn’t want life to get boring.”
“With us? Impossible.” She smiled, but her troubles still burned in her. “You mentioned your sister. What will Lady Ophelia think of all this?”
His mouth turned down suddenly. “Hard to say. I won’t lie and tell you she’s taken any of this well. When the truth came out about Montgomery, it hurt her. She thought herself in love with him, I suppose.”
Abigail flinched. She knew that feeling. Knew how easily Erasmus could manipulate a situation, a longing. And Ophelia was so young. “I’m sorry she endured so much.”
“Certainly she endured less than you or Pippa or Celeste. She might be difficult when she comes to London, when she meets you. Or she might decide she likes you just to spite me.”
“I hope that’s true,” Abigail said softly. She got up and walked away, feeling his gaze on her back with every step. “The others will be here shortly.”
“How about a wager, Abigail?”
She pivoted to face him, eyebrows lifting in confusion. “A wager? Is that wise?”
“We aren’t exactly wise when it comes to each other, are we?”
She caught her breath because he was suddenly looking at her like he wanted to devour her. And she felt no fear in that idea. “I suppose not. What would we wager on?”
He pushed to his feet and smoothed his jacket. “Hmmm. Well, why not make the best of a bad situation? Who will bring up the wedding, or the scandal surrounding it, first?”
She smothered a laugh despite herself. “That is easy. Celeste will say it first. But then she’ll take it back. Try to play it off.”
“Fascinating theory,” he said. “But you are, as usual, wrong.”
“Cad!” she burst out, now unable to keep herself from laughing out loud. “Then who do you say, since you are so clever?”
“Rhys will be the one,” he said, all certainty in the way he held himself and the tone of his voice. “He’s bound and determined to play the role of your judgmental brother to the rogue who ruined you. I’m surprised he hasn’t called me to the dueling ground.”
At that her smile fell. “Please tell me your friendship is not truly threatened.”
“You are worried, Abigail? For me?” He winked again. “You needn’t be. Nothing will end our friendship, I assure you.”
“Good,” she said, real relief pulsing through her. She pushed it aside with further teasing. “After all, you have so few friends, don’t you?”
“Through the heart, my lady,” he said, clutching his chest with one hand in dramatic flair. “Now, do you accept the wager?”
“What do I win?” she asked. His brows went up again and she held up her hands. “I’ve bested you twice, Your Grace, I will surely win. I want to know my prize.”
“Minx,” he growled and then tapped his chin with his forefinger. “Let me see…terms…terms…terms… What is it you want?”
She couldn’t help it. Her gaze slipped to his lips for the briefest moment, and her mind jerked her back to his mouth on hers as he dragged her down the settee. His hands bringing her such expert pleasure. She swallowed hard and his pupils dilated.
“What about a kiss?” he asked, taunting her with what she clearly couldn’t hide. Damn him for seeing her so clearly.
“A kiss?” she repeated, trying to make her voice sound like that hadn’t been on her mind. Like she didn’t even remember they’d kissed before. That she didn’t even know what a kiss was.
He nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact. “We’re going to be married in a few weeks, aren’t we? It’s all practice now.”
“And what would you win?” she asked, wishing her voice wasn’t so rough in response.
“I thought you were so certain of your impending victory, Abigail. Why even prepare for losing?”
“You might cheat,” she said.
He snorted out a laugh. “She impugns my honor yet again. My lady, I am at your feet, what would you be willing to give me if I should be so lucky, or so cunning, as to win?”
She really only wanted that damned kiss, but she couldn’t say that. The words wouldn’t come for one, but she also didn’t want to admit it to him. She didn’t want to let him win and have this desire to hold over her. She didn’t want to change their relationship and risk any more of herself than she already had.
“You’ll win your pound back,” she said with a smile.
He choked out a laugh and then nodded. “That, my dear, is a bargain.”
She extended a hand for them to shake on the deal. He took it, but tugged her close instead. Close enough that her chest brushed his, that his breath warmed her skin. He bent his head and his mouth was on hers again.
Despite the fact that they had kissed before, that they would be married soon, that she wanted his mouth on hers, it was still a surprise whenever he did it. As shocking as the first time it had happened; as potent, too.
He was gentle this time, his mouth almost feather-light against hers. She wanted more and lifted into him, parting her lips to welcome him. He took slowly, too slowly, almost tortuously slowly. He tasted her, savoring, teasing and her knees went weak with it. With him.
But before things could go too far, before she could lose herself in him, he pulled away and smiled at her.
“I-I thought that’s what I’d win,” she gasped, breathless and shaky. “Are you conceding already?”
He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “I was thinking you’d win a very different kind of kiss.”
He released her then, with her mouth gaping in surprise, and stepped away just as Paisley appeared in the doorway to announce the arrival of the rest of their group. But even as she pulled herself back together and managed to properly greet her friends, she knew she would only be thinking of that wicked suggestion the rest of the day.
It had been a long afternoon, but a pleasant one. It was impossible not to enjoy spending time with Abigail, Rhys, Pippa, Owen and Celeste. And watching the three women interact, their strong friendship on display every time they exchanged a look or laughed at a joke, was wonderful. Their bond was that of sisters, and Nathan was glad Abigail had such a support system in her life.
No one, as of yet, had mentioned the upcoming wedding. But the tension of it had hung in the room all day. Along with tension of a different kind. Since their kiss, Abigail had sent quite a few side glances his way. Sometimes her gaze dropped to his mouth, sometimes she seemed to jerk herself out of thought and force herself back into conversation.
He had distracted her…and he liked it far too much for his own good. Not that he had any intention of stopping. He had no idea what a marriage to this woman would look like, but it was happening. If they had desire between them, that was better than animus, it was better than fear or mistrust.
At least it was a start.
“With all that is going on, is there anything we can do to help with the wedding?” Celeste asked. She blushed. “Not that you are overwhelmed. You’re both capable people. And perhaps since you haven’t brought it up, you don’t want to talk about it, which is also fine.”