Tempting a Gentleman by Smith, Ann (bearly read books .txt) 📕

love ye for being protective over me niece, but if ye go bargin’ through the gardens, Markinson will have no choice. And Arabelle will forever believe he married her only to prevent a scandal or some such nonsense.” With a sigh, Emma continued, “We need to give them the time and space to sort it all out. Now, keep a lookout for one of these nosy matrons of the ton I hear about.”

Her kiss subdued his anger. Christopher listened to the wisdom of his soon-to-be wife and settled his hands about her waist. While Emma focused on the couple who stood entranced with each other, ignorant of the world about them, Christopher’s attention was drawn to the delightful heart-shaped décolleté of Emma’s gown.

He leaned down to nibble on his sweet fiancée’s delectable little earlobe, but her pointy elbow hit him against the ribs. “Ouch.” He straightened and rubbed the spot that Emma had injured.

The moon illuminated Arabelle, who was presently engulfed in Markinson’s arms. The couple appeared to be guaranteeing their engagement with an energetic kiss.

“Wot are ye waiting for?” Emma asked, glaring up at him.

“You said not to meddle.”

“Don’t be daft. Ye can’t let him muss up her hair.” She turned and stepped closer, placing her hand flat over his heart. “Bring her back here, so I can escort her back to her brother and we can leave.”

She slid her hand up and threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. He bent slightly, and the minx darted her tongue out to trace his bottom lip. Heat radiated through him. She boldly kissed him and mussed up his hair. Heart pounding in his ears, he released her lips but held her close. She grounded him. Emma winked, spun him around, and with a slight shove, she sent him spiraling towards Markinson.

He naturally detested being ordered about, but he didn’t mind the idea of Emma bossing him about so long as he was granted boons like that last kiss. Walking with purpose, Christopher approached the couple, ready to be done with the evening. The sooner he had Emma alone, the better.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Two weeks after the ball, Emma was more frustrated than satisfied with her engagement to Christopher. Sneaking about and arranging clandestine meetings wore on Emma’s patience, yet it brought to light how exhilarating her future would be with Christopher. Leaning back against the solid wood door of his chambers, Emma waited for the pounding of her heart to slow.

Each night, her skills in going about undetected were challenged. She suspected the Network was aware of their nightly escapades. The change of guard times had altered at least twice a week for the past fortnight. She wasn’t sure if the variation in times had been due to her unsanctioned activities with Christopher or the shifting of personnel. Christopher had quickly and meticulously gained the consent of every Network member on the list, allowing Landon and the Network elders to work together to reestablish a new sense of order. Her mum had shared that others had heard of Christopher’s offers and were intrigued at the prospect of a new life abroad. Many had approached the council seeking approval to join the ranks of those to make the six-week journey across the sea. When members had been asked why they wished to relocate, all had stated they wished to give their support to Christopher, who would officially become a PORF tomorrow. A burst of pride invaded her heart—she couldn’t wait to wed the man who was destined to be a great PORF. Her stomach cramped. She needed to discuss the details of what was to occur after their wedding ceremony tomorrow.

Squinting towards the bed, Emma whispered, “Christopher.” Where was her bloomin’ husband-to-be? With no moonlight, the room was darker than a cave. The door pushed against her, sending her stumbling forward.

“Sorry, love.” Christopher, still on the other side of the door, whispered, “I brought us a late-night snack. I heard you skipped supper again.”

She opened the door wider to allow Christopher in. “Ye didn’t hear any such nonsense.”

“Have you eaten?” The clatter of silverware against wood told Emma he was next to her.

“Nay. But no one told ye I hadn’t, ye’re jus’ guessin’.” She planted her hands on her hips, hoping she wouldn’t topple over the tray that was most likely piled high with breads and sweets.

His warm breath brushed her check. “Come along before I get distracted.”

She followed his soft footsteps and froze when he stopped. Waiting for Christopher to deposit the tray upon the bed, Emma counted out the four steps to the right that should place her in front of the window to draw back the thick double-layered curtain that kept the cold out. The dim rays of moonlight filtered through the gap and Emma turned to see the extravagant spread of food upon the bed.

“Did ye bring up the whole larder?”

Christopher chuckled. “I like to be prepared.” He patted the space next to him.

She raised a knee to crawl up onto the luxurious bed that she had quickly become accustomed to sleeping in. Although she hardly slept. Most nights, by the time they finished detailing their long days combined with Christopher’s love making, they had only a few hours until sunrise. Carefully balancing her weight so as not to topple any of the food about, she settled upon the mattress. Instead of sitting opposite her, Christopher slid in behind her and began his nightly ritual of kneading away the knots in her shoulders.

All the stress of creeping about was worth the bliss of Christopher’s magical touch. His clever fingers and clever banter made her relax even when they discussed Network matters. Each night she’d wanted to broach the topic of the possibility of them never seeing family again. But fear of the answer kept her silent.

“Pet. Are you ready to tell me what has you in knots each eve?” His thumb grazed down her neck. “I work tirelessly each night to ease them,