A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,80
table tightened into a fist. “Please sit back down,” he ground out. Seeing the effort, it cost him Mina lowered herself back into the chair, though she did not relax her affronted expression one bit. Her own hand trembled as she reached for her water glass.
“Will you take wine?” he asked gruffly.
“No, thank you,” Mina answered.
He poured her a glass anyway, which Mina resolutely ignored.
“Eat your dinner,” he bit out.
Mina’s temper flared, but she picked up her fork and stabbed a green bean with it. She hated him. He was an impossible brute. No wonder Edna fled from him every chance she got.
“I mean it for your own good,” he added in a surly voice. Mina gave no reaction. She swallowed a mouthful of potatoes only by sheer force of will. She did not want him to think his actions affected her in the slightest. He was nothing to her, nothing at all. She tasted little of the five mouthfuls she managed to force down and the atmosphere at table was oppressive to say the least.
Nye ate a hearty meal in heavy silence, then at the end of it he flung down his napkin and gave her an accusatory look. Mina stared stonily at some point on the wall past his right ear. After a moment, he dragged his chair back and exited the room, slamming the door so hard that Mina clapped her hands over her ears. Mannerless lout, she seethed as she started stacking the bowls and plates.
It seemed there was only one place she was welcome as far as Nye was concerned, and that was in his bed. Thinking of the return of that prizefighting rabble made her face flame. They would be the same crowd that watched the travesty that had played out the night she had arrived at The Merry Harlot. Only Effie had been kind. As for the rest of them, she was sure they were as bad as Nye himself. She carried the plates and bowls through to the kitchen, her ears craning to catch the murmur of voices in the bar but hearing nothing. She washed and dried and put away before returning to the parlor room and defiantly tossing down the glass of red wine she had shunned earlier. Hopefully, it would help her relax enough to fall asleep. After a hurried wash in the scullery alcove, she climbed the stairs, undressed, and pulled the covers over her head.
When next she woke it was because Nye was climbing into the bed behind her with a whispered curse as he fought to untuck the sheets cocooned around her body. She sucked in a harsh breath when he dragged her against him. He was chilled to the bone. He wrestled with the uncooperative blankets a moment, before dropping onto his back and dragging her over him as if she were the quilt. He gave a loud satisfied groan when she was fully plastered over him.
She puffed out an irritated breath. “You’re cold,” she grumbled. He had been out and about, though no decent body had cause to be at this time of night.
“So warm me up.”
She gasped when he grabbed her nightgown at the neck and tugged it aside to bury his face in her neck. “You’ll tear it!”
“Best thing that could happen to the ugly thing,” he said rudely as he rubbed his stubble against her skin.
“It’s draughty up here,” she pointed out. “And it keeps me warm.”
“Take it off.”
“It’s cold!”
“Take it off,” he insisted gruffly. “I want to feel your breasts against me.”
She tutted and rubbed her chest against his. “You can,” she pointed out crossly. He was naked, she realized and not drunk in the slightest. Her body was only covered in a thin layer of cotton.
“Your bare tits,” he growled.
“You’re such a pig,” she huffed. “It’s all tangled around my legs, Nye. I’m not—”
“For God’s sake!” he growled, bouncing up and dislodging all their covers.
“Nye!”
He grabbed at the hem of her nightgown and dragged it up to her waist. “Sit up!”
“It’s too cold to be naked!” she complained in a furious undertone as he hauled it over her head and flung it to the end of the bed. “You selfish brute!”
He planted a hand against her breastbone and shoved her back against the pillows, before reaching behind him to grab the covers and drag them back up over them. “Open your legs,” he grunted as he dropped down on top of her.