to meet Olivia’s father.” God, he hadn’t even met his future father-in-law, the man whose blessing he would prefer to have for the union. This was moving almost as fast as the night he’d compromised Olivia and been caught by her stepmother.
It was better not to think about that too much—the fact that he was about to be leg-shackled, priest-linked, noosed . . . and every other slang term for a man entering the parson’s mouse trap without considering the consequences.
In any case, he’d had enough of wedding plans. He still had to finish writing the final scene of the play, which he’d figured out this morning while waiting for Olivia to wake up. That would take him a few hours, no doubt. Then all he had to do was keep silent about his authorship of the plays until this last one was performed and published. After that, he could give it up. He could, couldn’t he? Because if he told Olivia the truth about it . . .
No, that was unthinkable.
He rose. “Ladies, feel free to continue your discussion here or in the drawing room, whichever you find more comfortable. I have work to do before tomorrow’s journey, so I must absent myself. I’m happy with whatever you decide, be it a church wedding, a ceremony here in our chapel, or a ceremony in the Norley home. Just let me know in the morning if I need to obtain a special license. Good night.”
He left the dining room and headed for his study, but he’d barely entered the hallway when Olivia came hurrying out.
“Did you mean what you said about being happy with whatever we decide?” she asked.
“I generally mean what I say,” he told her, hoping he was successful in hiding his irritation at the whole process.
Warily she came closer. “You seem annoyed.”
She might have trouble understanding people, but she certainly had no trouble understanding him. He raked his hair with one hand. “I’m simply unaccustomed to being part of this sort of thing.”
She smiled tightly. “Wedding plans? Or not always getting your way?”
“Very amusing, sweeting.” He pulled her into his arms for a hard and thorough kiss that got him hot and bothered.
And her, too, judging from her quickened breathing after she drew back. “What am I to do with you?” she asked softly.
“A number of very wicked and wanton things you probably can’t do until we are very properly and completely wed.”
A light dawned in her face. “That’s why you want to marry so quickly.”
He smirked at her. “You certainly took your time about deducing that.”
“You didn’t explain it to me well enough.” She walked back toward the dining room door, then paused to give him a come hither look. “But now that you have, I do believe we’ll be marrying here by special license after all.”
He chuckled as she reentered the dining room. This marriage might actually work. At least he could be certain she would match his eagerness for bed sport. And surely that would be enough for him.
Olivia said good night to her mother much later than she should have, but they’d had a great deal to discuss with Gwyn, who’d just gone down the hall herself to bed. Now Olivia felt at loose ends. She wasn’t ready to retire, but neither did she feel like reading.
Perhaps she should ask Thorn what he wanted her to do with her laboratory. Would it remain here for her use? Would he prefer a building not so close to the house? If she had to pack it up tonight, that would be good to know.
You just want another fiery kiss, you wicked woman.
Yes. She did. When Thorn kissed her, he convinced her that she might not be making a mistake in marrying him. And she could use such reassurance right now. Because his continued insistence on seeing their future marriage as merely a physical and practical arrangement was starting to gnaw at her.
Looking both ways down the hall to make sure no one was around to see her, Olivia ran down the stairs and then found the door to Thorn’s study. It was a little ajar so she tapped as loudly as she dared, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention. And when he didn’t answer, she slipped inside to determine for sure if he was there.
He certainly was, but sound asleep. She walked over to look at him, where he sat with his head resting on the back of the chair and his eyes closed. Hard