Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

warm smile and kind eyes called to her. She wanted to wrap herself around him and hold on. Moreham was her safe haven from the storm that was her uncle’s dealings.
She made her decision to be as honest as possible with her new husband. “I would like it if we were together tonight. I would like you to hold me. I feel so alone when you are not with me. I’ve felt that way from the first, when you left me in Philly’s library. Am I infringing on your privacy to ask such of you?”
Moreham smiled. “What a lovely invitation? Thank you. I too would love to do exactly that. I would ask that we use my bed. Are you comfortable with sharing my bed with me?”
Gillian sighed at the back and forth of their conversation. Two people who knew little of each other but were willing to tread lightly as they worked to become familiar with each other. She knew she would come to love this man if she didn’t already. Before either of them could address the subject of love they had to learn to trust each other. Uncle Whitney stood between them for now.
“Yes, I would love to sleep at your side. The rest can come later?”
Moreham grinned. “Yes, I think all either of us can manage this night will be sleep. We have had a tumultuous two days, have we not?”
Moreham, came forward and scooped her from her bed and carried her through the sitting room into his bedchamber where he sat her on the edge of his bed.
She watched him disappear into his dressing room. Moreham, no, she refused to think of him the same as everyone else. Her relationship and regard for him was about to take an intimate turn. When he was with her, he would be “James” not Moreham. She would not besmirch their union by calling him Moreham.
Moreham, dressed in a banyan, returned. The man was beautiful. Gillian struck dumb by his maleness, watched him approach the other side of the bed. She’d never seen a man dressed as he was. The sight of his bare chest stole or her breath. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him.
Gillian pushed her desire down and forced herself to look around the room. She needed a moment to gather her wits, otherwise she’d launch herself in his arms. While doing so would give them something to laugh about in the years to come, at the present, he looked as somber as she felt. Apparently, the business of bedding one’s new wife was not a laughing matter.
Moreham watched his wife as she surveyed his room much as she had the sitting room earlier as if she were trying to ferret out the mysteries of his life.
“I like your room. Larger than mine but somehow it feels more comfortable.” She offered.
“I’m gratified that you approve.” Moreham eased his way to his bed. Watching for any sign Gillian was uncomfortable with his presence. If she balked at him joining her, he feared he would expire on the spot. She drew him to her like a moth to a flame. What would his friends think if they knew the tiny lady had snared his attentions so completely? He and his friends spent many hours ridiculing their friends who had been caught in the parson’s mousetrap. The irony was not lost on him.
Dressed in his banyan and a pair of sleeping pantaloons, Moreham was determined to not alarm his bride. He would do this the right way or die trying. Gillian’s happiness within this room was his only goal.
Gillian watched him as she lifted the bedcovers and slid next to her. She didn’t utter a sound until his leg touched hers, then she chirped like a little bird. Why he was doing this was a mystery to him. Sleep was not on his mind when he reached out and touched her.
“As I said before, nothing has to happen that you do not want to,” he said.
“You find me wanting?”
The vixen was a danger to them both. He rolled over and pulled her toward him until they were nose to nose.
“Gillian, I want. I want so much that I am shaking from desire. I also want you to want me just as much. Shall we ease our way into this marriage of ours?”
Gillian ran a finger over his bottom lip. She looked up into his eyes and smiled that smile he adored. For his sanity, he could never reveal how entranced he was with her.
Gillian leaned closer and kissed him. “Thank you, James. Good night.”
With those words she turned her back to him. Within minutes, Gillian was asleep. He was glad she was because–he knew without a doubt he would not.
He woke up to the caterwauling of a tomcat who most likely was wooing its mate. The drapes were open. From the gray light, it must early dawn. The tweenie would be coming soon to deal with the fireplace.
A peculiar warmth surrounded him. He looked down and found his newly acquired wife asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped around her. Moreham had no notion how to get her untangled from his embrace. He tried to move away, only to have her snuggle even closer.
The mantel clock chimed, and he counted five peals. He looked down to find her watching him.
“Good morning?” she asked.
“Good morning, Gillian, you are not where you’re supposed to be.” He looked downward and waited.
The woman fairly jumped back across the wide bed to the far edge. “Uh…no, my apology, I must have done so in my sleep.”
“Ah, we will have to come up with a solution. ’Tis not done for two people who have known each other for five days to be in such close proximity.”
“Even if those two people are wed?” Gillian asked.
He laughed at the absurdity of her question. His wife was more open-minded than he realized. Most innocents, and Gillian was most definitely an innocent,