The dowager pressed on, turning a pointed look on her son. “Now, if only you would take a cue from Bourne and find a wife.”
The viscount gave a little laugh and made a show of shaking his head before settling his gaze on Penelope. “I fear Bourne has found the last ideal bride.”
“She has sisters, Tottenham,” Michael added, teasing in his tone.
Tottenham smiled graciously. “I shall look forward to meeting them.”
Understanding dawned. There, as simply as taking sweets from a babe, Michael had expertly laid the groundwork for Olivia to meet Lord Tottenham and possibly marry him.
Her eyes went wide, and she turned her surprise on her husband, who took her look in stride, immediately redefining it. “I find that now that I am so very enamored by my own wife, I cannot help but encourage those around me to seek their own.”
Such lies. So smooth.
So easy to believe.
The dowager chimed in, “Well, I, for one, think it a marvelous idea.” She stood, the men assembled following her to her feet. “In fact, I think we shall leave the gentlemen to their discussion.”
The rest of the attendees took their cue, the ladies peeling away from the table to retire to another room for sherry and gossip. Penelope had no doubt that she would be the center of attention for the last.
She followed the dowager viscountess with heavy footsteps to a lovely little salon, but had barely made her way inside when a large warm hand enveloped her own, and Michael’s deep, familiar voice rumbled, “Excuse me, ladies, I’ve need of my wife for one, brief moment, if you don’t mind. I told you, I cannot bear to be without her.” There was a collective gasp as Michael pulled Penelope from the room and into the hallway, closing the door to the salon behind them.
Penelope wrenched her hand from his, looking both ways down the hall to ensure that they had not been seen. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “This is not done!”
“I do wish you would stop telling me what is and is not done,” he said. “Don’t you see it only makes me want to do it more?” He pulled her farther away from the door into a dimly lit alcove. “Gossip about how much I adore you is the kind of gossip we’re looking for, darling.”
“There’s no need to call me that, and you know it,” she whispered. “I’m not your darling.”
He lifted a hand to her face. “You are when we are in public.”
She swatted it away. “Stop it.” She paused, then lowered her voice. “Do you think they believe us?”
He gave her an indignant look. “Why wouldn’t they, my love? Every word of it is true.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You know what I mean.”
He leaned close, and whispered, “I know that the walls in houses like this have ears, love.” And then he licked her. Actually licked her, a lovely caress on the lobe of her ear that had her clutching his arms at unexpected pleasure. Before she could respond, his lips were gone, and he returned his hand to her jaw, tipping her face up to his. “You were splendid in there.”
Splendid. The word echoed through her on a flood of pleasure as he set a warm kiss to the place where her pulse beat frantically at her throat.
“I don’t like the way they judge you,” she whispered. “Especially Holloway.”
“Holloway is a bitch.” She gasped at the word, and he continued in her ear. “She deserves a thrashing. It’s a shame that her earl is too feeble to do it.”
Pleasure lanced through Penelope at the words, and she could not help her smile. “You seem to have few qualms about spanking women.”
“Only those I like.” He stilled and lifted his head, dark gaze finding hers in the close quarters.
She tried to ignore the silken promise in the words. Tried to remember that it wasn’t real. That this night was all façade. That this strange man was not her husband. That her husband had done nothing but use her for his own gain.
Except, tonight wasn’t about him. It was about her and her sisters. “Thank you, Michael,” she whispered in the darkness, “I know that you did not have to honor this part of the arrangement. That you did not have to help my sisters.”
He was silent for a long moment. “I do have to.”
His willingness to keep his word surprised her even as it reminded her of their agreement. “I suppose there is honor among thieves after all.” She hesitated, then said, “And the rest of the agreement?”
One of his dark brows rose.
“When do I get my tour?”
“You’re learning to drive a hard bargain.”
“I’ve little else to keep me entertained,” she replied.
“Are you bored, wife?”
“Why would I be bored? Staring at the walls of your town house is so fascinating.”
He chuckled at her words, and the sound sent a shiver of heat through her. “Fair enough. Why not take your excitement now?”
“Because right now, we’re trying to convince them that you have changed and our disappearing from the festivities will not help.”
“Oh, I think my disappearing with my proper wife would help a great deal.” He crowded closer. “More than that, I know you’ll enjoy it.”
“Hiding in the hallway of Tottenham House like a thief?”
“Not like a thief.” He peeked around the edge of their hiding place before returning his attention to her. “Like a lady having a clandestine affair.”
She gave a little snort of disapproval. “With her husband.”
“Having an affair with one’s husband is . . . He trailed off, his eyes darkening.
“Bourgeois?”
One side of his mouth twitched. “I was going to say it was an adventure.”
An adventure.
She stilled at the word, looking up at him where he towered above her, his lips turned up in something akin to a smirk, his hands cupping her face, everything about him, his heat, his scent . . . him, surrounding her.
She should deny him. She should tell him that she found their wedding night as plain and uninteresting as dinner at Tottenham House.
Should put him in his smug place.
But she couldn’t. Because she wanted it again. She wanted him to kiss her and touch her and make her feel all those glorious things she had felt before he’d left her as though he hadn’t felt a thing.
He was so close and so handsome and so male. And as she looked up into the eyes of this man who was one moment exciting and entertaining and the next dark and dangerous, she realized that she would take adventure with him any way he offered it.
Even here, in the alcove of Tottenham’s hallway.
Even if it was a mistake.
She placed her hands flat against his chest, feeling the hard, flat strength that coiled there beneath layers of perfectly fitted linen and wool. “You’re so different tonight. I don’t know who you are.”
Something flashed in his eyes at the words, something there, then gone so fast that she could not identify it. When he spoke, his words were low and soft and liquid, with a hint of teasing. “Then why not get to know me a little better?”
Why not, indeed.
She lifted herself onto her toes, reaching up for him as he bent toward her and claimed her lips in a searing, nearly unbearable kiss.