A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,116
expectation of reciprocating.”
“Not me,” he retorted promptly.
Her eyes sought his and whatever she saw in his dark gaze reassured her. She gave a short nod. “Very well then,” she said. “Thank you for the clarification.” She went to pull away, but his grip on her did not slacken. “Nye?” she said consciously. “We are standing in a common highway.”
“Aye, so we are wife and not one more step will we stir until you give me the kiss I want.”
“Nye!” She felt herself become flustered in an instant. “We are not some… courting couple!”
He looked amused. “Nay, for we skipped that stage,” he agreed. “So, let us make amends for that now.” He cocked his head to one side, looking suddenly thoughtful. “We’ll walk out together like we did tonight and keep company of an evening at least twice a week.”
“Keep company?” she echoed, trying to imagine Nye sat in the parlor with her in his fancy suit of an evening. Even twice a week that was some feat of imagination. What was she supposed to do with him? She could not imagine having him sitting with a book of poetry like her father had used to do or helping her to wind her yarn. “You’d need someone else to cover the taproom,” she pointed out uncertainly.
“Well, according to you, Faris has that matter well in hand,” he reminded her glibly.
She spluttered. “You, however, seemed to place little confidence in his abilities,” she reminded him.
“The longer you stall giving me those pretty lips, the longer we’ll be stood in the middle of the road, at the mercy of passing carts,” Nye pointed out.
Realizing he was not going to let her off the hook with this, Mina took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, tipping her face up to receive his kiss. He did not immediately take her up on her invitation and for a moment indeed, she thought he would not.
She was just starting to feel foolish when his lips descended on hers, in a kiss such as Will Nye had never bestowed on her before. His lips were soft yet firm against her own, and infinitely sweet as he molded them to her own. After a moment, she felt his hands cup her face almost tenderly and run his thumbs along her cheekbones in what she could only consider to be a caress.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have dreamt that Will Nye would ever touch her thus. When he lifted his face away from hers, he looked almost as surprised by it as she. He stared at her a moment before taking her hand again. “That was the kiss I should have given you atop the carriage that time,” he rasped.
“The carriage?” Mina faltered, feeling her wits had gone a-begging.
“The first time,” he replied abruptly.
Mina remembered the suffocating embrace that had been her first and almost agreed. But if he had kissed her like this back then, she was not sure how she might have reacted. It would have been far too intimate. This kiss, she realized dazedly, was a courting kiss. It was a kiss given to sweethearts.
She traced the part of her lips and reddened. When Nye turned a heated look her way, she could not quite meet his eye. “Have you ever been courting before?” She heard herself ask and wished she had not.
“Courting?” He shook his head.
“You seem rather good at it,” she said, casting him a sidelong look. “As though you might have had some practice.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, love,” he answered with a wink.
“You’ve never had a sweetheart?” she persisted recklessly; her color heightened.
Again, he shook his head. “Don’t forget, I went to Exeter at nineteen. I had no time for walks on the beach or making up to the local lasses.”
Mina narrowed her eyes. “Maybe not, but I expect there were lots of women in Exeter,” she said darkly.
“None that would have expected me to court them,” he answered, frankly. Mina pursed her lips, then decided it was better to focus on the future and not the past. “What of you?” he asked in a low voice. “Did your father never hire a young schoolmaster that caught your fancy?”
Mina turned her head sharply at the odd tone in his voice. Now it was his turn to color slightly and avoid her gaze. “Nay,” he said roughly. “Don’t tell me, for I’ve changed my mind. It would be better not to know.”