The table roared with approval over the kiss as she slipped her hand beneath the table and pushed his hand away a second time.
“Do it again! We missed the wedding!” someone yelled. “At least we should be allowed to see a real kiss.”
Michael waited until she turned in his direction. This time his hand gripped her leg with determination and she felt the heat of his fingers through the layers of her gown. With his free hand, he lifted her chin and lowered his mouth over hers.
The kiss was sweet, tender, but his hand moved purposefully up her leg with shocking familiarity. After a few moments she pulled away. Anger flashed before she realized they were on the same side. His bold actions made everyone believe they were in love, and her shocked hesitance only led them to believe that the girl was becoming a woman.
Michael smiled down at her as his hand beneath the table moved back to her knee, straightening the silk gown as he went, as though he could somehow erase the feel of his hand.
The crowd clapped and yelled. “Look,” someone shouted, “she blushes with just a mere kiss!”
Cozette wanted to jab him hard in the ribs but he was playing the game they’d agreed to play. No one in the room would suspect they’d married for anything but love or maybe passion.
All evening he kept her close. He played with her hand while someone read poetry, and when the evening progressed and the wine flowed, and they no longer became the center of attention, he remained close, always touching her hand or arm, or brushing his leg lightly against hers.
She considered the fact that he might be trying to drive her mad. After all, he’d have everything if she went crazy. Each touch seemed a fraction bolder than the last. She found herself warming to each, waiting for the next.
People grouped together to sing around her mother’s piano. Two old men were sound asleep near the door, their brandy still in their hands. To her surprise, Michael moved even closer to her after her uncle retired.
Cozette felt the length of the day. With no sleep the night before, she couldn’t remember when she’d last had any rest. She’d tried for an hour in the afternoon, but there was far too much to do. Now, with the warmth of him beside her, she melted against him, no longer worrying about what was proper.
He seemed to understand, putting his arm around her and pulling her close, then brushing her cheek as he encouraged her to rest her head on his chest.
She didn’t protest, surprised at how good it felt to have someone watching over her. The guests fell away, their good-nights little more than buzzing around her. Even the doctor’s report that her father was resting comfortably hardly registered.
When they were alone, Michael pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against the soft arm of the settee. “Sleep, my dear. I’m right here to watch over you.”
She felt his hands brush along her side and his lips kiss her temple, and then she drifted deep into sleep.
When she awoke, he was carrying her up the stairs. Embarrassed at being carried to bed like a child, she didn’t move or open her eyes.
He went to his room and crossed the space between to hers. Without a word, he gently laid her down on the bed. She didn’t move as he unlatched her heavy necklace. His fingers drifted down and brushed lightly over the rise of her breast, and then he moved to her feet and removed her shoes. His hand glided up her leg to just above her knee where a strap held her gun in place. He didn’t seem surprised by the weapon but simply removed it and pulled her skirt back down.
The thought crossed her mind that if he went any farther she’d scream, but she knew no one would come to stand between a husband and a wife on their first night together.
His hands slid along her sides from knee to shoulder, and then he tugged the covers to her chin and moved off the bed.
She expected him to cross back into his room, but he didn’t. He locked her door, pulled the curtain across the alcove, stoked the fire, and removed his boots and jacket.
Then, very carefully, he lay down atop the covers at her side.
With her eyes closed, she tried to breathe slowly as if asleep as his hand moved