Cocky Mister (Regency Cocky Gents #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,67

likely to run into Culpepper’s minions this early. If we can get ahead of him, we stand a chance at beating them to London.”

His little enchantress moaned in protest, and Archie stalked up the blanket to burrow into the spot Stone had vacated.

“Traitor.” He grimaced at the cat. But then he grinned when the rope loosened and dropped, covering both lazybones and eliciting a protest from his wife.

His breath caught.

My wife.

His wife, whom he had shared the most incredible sex of his life with and whom he was beginning to suspect had taken up permanent residence in his heart.

“You’re a cruel man… Rock Chester,” she whined from beneath the canvas.

Rock Chester. How simple everything would be if only…

He would tell her today. He grasped the edges of the canvas, yanked, and focused his attention on folding it and then rolling it up tightly.

Because he had no idea how he was going to go about cleaning up the other aspects of his life.

“I’m a wrinkled mess.” She sat in a puddle of the quilt, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair. “Look away. Don’t look at me.”

“You’re asking the impossible.” His gaze caressed the graceful curve of her spine, the gentle slope of her shoulders, and the soft pout of her lips. “You’re the first thing I want to see when I open my eyes, if only to remind myself you’re real and not some enchantress from my dreams. And the last sight I want before I go to sleep so as to ensure my dreams are almost as perfect as my reality.”

Oh, hell, he was spouting poetry now.

And if he was to go by the look in her eyes as she stared dumbfounded at him, he’d shocked her more than he’d shocked himself.

And then her throat moved, as though she had to swallow some emotion.

If he went to her now, they’d not be on the road for at least another hour. So instead, he bent over and tossed her the gown he’d removed sometime during the night. “There’s water in the canteen.” He pointed. “Holler when you are dressed.”

He pivoted and strode toward the trees.

“Rock?” she called out behind him. He halted and only allowed himself to glance back over his shoulder. She was standing now, naked but for the gown she was clutching in front of her.

And the sun, goddamn the sun, chose that moment to crest over the horizon, bathing her in tones of golden light. “I…” She faltered. “I…”

Archie chose that moment to leap from the quilt in pursuit of a bird.

A priceless cat pursuing a bird in the wilds of northern England.

“I’ll get the cat, you get dressed!”

Stone steered the gig back onto the road nearly an hour later, Archimedes having proven more troublesome than either Stone or Tabetha had thought possible.

He glanced sideways, catching a glimpse of her profile from beneath the bonnet she was wearing. There were much better ways he could have utilized that hour.

“What if they’re there?” Tabetha was sitting up straight, leaning forward as though expecting a villain to jump out from behind every tree they passed.

“Just keep yourself under the hood.” He glanced over again. “And drop your shoulders, hunch over. Even if they can’t see your hair and face, they could recognize you by your posture, your gestures.”

He felt her turn to stare at him. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. It’s quite distinct. When I caught up with you, I knew it was you from fifty yards away.”

“How?

“The way you tilt your chin up and then touch your hair. And when you’re nervous, or uncomfortable, you smooth your skirts, which other women do, but you also smooth the fabric of your sleeve. When you’re at a loss for words, you touch your bodice.” Stone rubbed his fingers over the reins thoughtfully. “And your walk. It’s as though some song is playing in your head, lightening your step. Except when you’re irritated, then you might as well be Wellington himself.”

The village came into sight, and he waited for the hairs on the back of his neck to perk up. When they didn’t, he relaxed slightly.

She didn’t respond but… was fussing with her bodice. She’d changed into a different gown in the time he’d given her. This one was a pale rose color. He reached over and took her hand.

“I like that color on you.” It was the same color as the tips of her breasts. He was half-tempted to tease her but she was quieter than usual this morning.

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