Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

SYD WATCHED AS the knob began to turn on its own.

She fell back a step to stand by Octavian's side and quietly berated herself for not thinking about who might be standing on the other side of the door. What if Sir Henry had caught up to them already? Not that she believed it was possible, but Octavian had accused her of being rash and he was right. She had not even considered the danger or expressed any caution before intending to let in whoever stood there.

Octavian had instantly shot to his feet, drawing her behind him, and at the same time reaching for his pistol. He now breathed a sigh of relief and quietly slipped his pistol back in the lip of his boot when the person turned out to be one of the inn's maids rolling in a tea cart.

Completely harmless.

The maid caught sight of Octavian and cast him a beguiling smile. "Do you require anything more, my lord?"

"No, my wife and I have all we need."

The girl eyed him suggestively again, then bobbed a curtsy and sashayed out, quietly closing the door behind her.

Syd regarded him thoughtfully. "Am I mistaken or was she making suggestive overtures to you?"

He grimaced. "You are not mistaken."

"Did she not see me standing right behind you?" Syd was appalled by the brazenness of some women. Who would be so bold as to make such indecent advances to a man while that man's wife was standing right beside him? That she and Octavian were not married was irrelevant since everyone thought they were.

"I don't know. Perhaps you were too well hidden. I'm a big man."

"And what am I? Little and shriveled? I did not think I was all that well hidden," she grumbled and remained staring at him.

He sighed. "What, Syd?"

She blushed. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Going to take her up on her offer?"

"Are you jesting? Blessed saints, no. I have no intention of it. Women approach me all the time."

"Oh, I see." There was no denying he had the good looks to put women in a swoon. No other man had ever made her heart flutter, something he managed to do even when she was irritated with him.

"You seem to be the only one impervious to my charms," he said with a wry arch of his brow. "Syd, we are supposedly married two days now. What sort of knave would I be to cheat on my new wife? But just to be clear, I would never be unfaithful, even to a pretend wife. Not ever. So put it out of your head at once."

"All right. Thank you, Octavian." She went to the cart and began to set out the light fare the brazen maid had brought up. In truth, she wanted to dump it all back out into the hallway, which was something she might have done had Octavian actually been married to her.

But this was her rash and impulsive self getting incensed when she really had no right to be. Octavian was being so wonderfully decent and honorable about their pretend marriage vows. His behavior mattered most, not that of a conniving stranger they would never see again.

Besides, had she not often behaved outrageously herself? Never in any lascivious way, of course. Nor would she ever blatantly proposition any man, much less a happily married one. Having talked herself into calming down, she poured each of them a cup of tea and addressed the comment he had made about her not liking him.

Was it not obvious that she cared for him very much and did not know what to do about it? "I am not impervious to your charms, Octavian. But I was raised to be a lady and taught never to show such feelings."

He laughed. "You may have been raised a lady, but that has not stopped you from expressing your feelings or opinions or doing anything you like. You are a hoyden and a hellion."

She tried not to feel wounded by the remark because it was true and he was stating it as fact without intention of being hurtful. "Is there a difference?"

"Probably not," he said with a shrug, but not a moment later cast her a slow, lazy smile. "Are you suggesting that you find me attractive?"

"Of course, I do. A woman would have to blind not to notice how handsome you are. In fact, you are the handsomest man I have ever set eyes upon. What do you think of that?"

The comment obviously surprised him, but instead of continuing to smile at her, he frowned. "And still, you resent me."

Her eyes widened. "I do not resent you!"

He shook his head. "You do, Syd. But let's drop the discussion for now. I find myself suddenly hungry. What did they bring us?"

"Cold ham, tea cakes, cheese, and apples. I'll set some on a plate for you." She began to fuss with the appetizing fare while he settled into one of the two chairs beside a small table.

He had earlier removed the jacket of his uniform and now looked big and wonderful, his muscles straining against the white lawn of his shirt. How could any woman resist his superb body or those gorgeous, silver-gray eyes?

Still, that maid had no right to blatantly ogle him, even if he was physically perfect in every way. Strong jaw, gorgeous mouth that felt so warm and fine pressed to hers the first and only time he had kissed her. Full head of dark hair trimmed at the sides. The cut of his hair made him look quite rigidly military but also incredibly appealing.

Strength oozed out of his every pore, and the heavenly sinew of his torso had her heart in palpitations.

She wanted to sleep beside this man and feel his arms around her.

Would it be so awful to lose herself in those acres of muscles?

After all, she was ruined whether they slept together or not.

As for their sham marriage, what harm could there be in sharing a bed? It wasn't as though they were going to act upon their proximity. "Octavian," she said, setting the plate of food in front of him, "I have a solution to the problem of who is to sleep on the floor."

"I am not going to flip cards for it."

"We don't even have a deck of cards. That is not my suggestion." She cleared her throat. "The bed is large enough for us to share."

He shook his head and emitted a deep, rich laugh. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not? We are only going to sleep, so why not allow both of us to be comfortable? It is the only sensible solution. Besides, the staff will think it most odd if only one side of the bed is slept in. They will suspect we are not newlyweds and call in the authorities. Do not be stubborn about this. You know it is the only choice that makes any sense."

He stuffed a bite of cold ham in his mouth in order to avoid responding to her. Why was he so averse to the suggestion? He had told her she was pretty this morning. What had changed? Did she smell of the dirt and heat of the roadway? "Oh, it is me you do not want near you. I…I did not think to take one of Adela's soaps with me. Do you by any chance have some I could use? Perhaps the innkeeper will have–"

"Syd?" He stared at her as though confused, and then amusement shone in his eyes so that they glistened. "Your scent is delightful, as sweet as cherries. Why are you being so dense about this? I am not resisting because of the way you smell."

"Gad, you are such a charmer." She sank into the chair beside his. "How am I being dense?"

He took another bite of his ham and seemed to take forever to swallow it. "You are a woman, quite an attractive one much of the time. You have curves. Very appealing ones."

"And?

"You have a bosom…also very appealing. I do not want any misunderstandings to occur between us while we are asleep."

"So you would rather lay upon a cold, hard floor rather than accidentally brush up against my body?"

"Yes. I do not know what I might do when deep in sleep. I am not a monk and might accidentally shift closer to you, touch you in a way that I should not. You may have a sharp tongue, but–"

"I am not that bad, am I?"

"Do you want me to answer that honestly? My point is, the rest of you is soft and warm. I may not be completely resistant to you."

She placed her elbows on the table and propped her head in her hands while staring at him. This was not quite a declaration of love, but it was still something. "Are you suggesting I entice you? I had no idea I was so sultry and alluring."

"Blessed saints," he said with a groaning chuckle. "Just think about this, Syd. You and I in bed together. It is dark and we are under the covers. You are wearing a thin nightgown and I…well, I had better keep my trousers on, hadn't I?"

"Did you not think to bring a nightshirt?"

"You assume I own one, which I don't because I always sleep naked."

She blushed.

That made him grin. "I am not likely to resist the sweet, womanly scent of your body or the satin feel of your skin. My hands are going to roam all over you…and Lord help us if they land somewhere they should not."

She regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment. "I will wake you if that happens."

"You will slap me if that happens."

"I would never. At worst I would wake you gently." In truth, she would probably let him roam and not say a word because if this make-believe marriage they were about to enter into did not work out, then she wanted to have the memory of sharing a night in bed with him to sustain her upcoming sad and empty years.

No man had ever been as kind to her or as patient with her. If Octavian decided he did not want her, then what chance did she have with anyone else?

If she was going to be a spinster, why not enjoy one wild night with this man who was sinfully handsome? She trusted him to the depths of her soul. He was a dream come true, and she was not going to pass up the chance to experience his lips, hands, and any other bodily organ he wished to use on her.

"I am not finished arguing the matter with you, Octavian. So do not think you have won this point. But I need to get out of my gown and prepare for bed now. You'll have to help me undress," she remarked once they had finished their light repast. There was no lady's maid here to assist and she was never going to summon the maid who had brought in the tea cart.

"All right, I'll help you. But I am not discussing the matter of sleeping arrangements with you."

"So that's it? You are going to be a stubborn lout and sleep on the uncomfortable floor where you will catch your death of cold and be of no use to me or the Admiralty, I might point out. Is your mission not important? Besides, I do not wish to travel the rest of the way to Greenock with your dead body moldering in a hired coach."

He grinned. "You'd probably cut me up and examine my body parts under a microscope."

"That is not a bad idea," she teased. "Octavian, there's no hiding from each other. There is no ornamental screen here to shield us while we change out of our clothes or even use a chamber pot. How can we get more intimate than this?"

One eyebrow of his shot up and a gleam sprang into his eyes. "Perhaps I will show you how…one of these days."

Please. Yes.

But she pressed on before she became distracted with thoughts of what he might do. She was eager to learn all she could from him before they parted ways. Even though he had spoken of a possible permanent arrangement, she dared not consider it or give herself hope. She would be crushed when he became disenchanted with her and they returned to leading their separate lives.

"Since we are going to see all of each other over these next few weeks, a sensible next step of sharing a bed is not going to be that noteworthy," she said. "If it does not work out, then I will not argue if you choose to move to the floor. Does this not sound fair and sensible? Do we have a deal?"

"No."

Why did he have to be such a stubborn clot?

Well, she could be just as stubborn. "Fine, then you leave me no choice. I shall sleep on the floor, too."

He frowned at her. "You will not."

"You cannot stop me. If you sleep on the floor, then I sleep on the floor. We shall both get sick and die together."

"Bloody blazes, Syd. Why must you be such a nuisance?" He rolled his eyes and then emitted a defeated sigh. "I know I am going to regret this. All right. Deal. We share the bed."

Her hands shook as the import of his agreement rippled through her.

She had just convinced this gorgeous man to sleep with her.

Could she convince him to do more than just sleep with her?

No. No.

What an outrageous thought.

True, they would soon be married.

But they were not married yet.

It was enough of a struggle just getting him to this point.

Perhaps she would raise the matter of more in a few days, once he had grown accustomed to having her in bed with him.

Octavian wheeled the tea cart and their dirty dishes into the hall for one of the inn's attendants to pick up while Syd quickly took care of her necessaries and washed up. She wished she could laze in a steaming hot bath, but that luxury would have to wait for another time.

Octavian then had his turn attending to himself while she turned her back to him and began to undress. But she hadn't gotten very far, merely removed her walking boots and stockings, and unpinned her hair before she reached an impasse. "Octavian, will you help me with the hooks and laces?"

Wordlessly, he dried his hands and walked across the chamber to where she was standing.

Syd held her breath as he stepped behind her and then nudged her hair aside before attempting to untie the first lacings. Tingles shot through her as his knuckles grazed her neck and she felt his warm breath upon her skin.

There was a charge between them that felt like bolts of lightning striking the ground.

Sparks lingered in the air.

Her body sizzled with his every touch.

"Silky," he murmured, his fingers sliding through her long tresses as he eased them aside.

"I brushed out the knots," she said for lack of a more clever remark.

"I noticed." He emitted a soft growl watching the curls tumble over her shoulder and come to rest atop her bosom.

She licked her lips. "I usually braid my hair."

"I'm glad you didn't."

So was she, for she never would have experienced this bit of intimacy with Octavian otherwise. There was something quite exciting about him standing behind her, big and masculine. Would he wrap his arms around her if she leaned back ever so slightly to rest against his chest?

"Do you want me to help braid your hair once I am through unlacing your gown?" he asked, his voice deep and resonant.

"Um…" Fashioning a simple braid was something she always did before donning her nightgown and slipping into bed. She did not ever bother with anything intricate, just a loose plait down her back to keep herself from accidentally yanking her hair whenever she turned in her sleep.

But leaving it long and loose, available for him to touch, was so much better. "No, not necessary."

She would never braid her hair again, not while she shared a bedchamber with Octavian.

Once again, she felt his warm breath against her neck as he worked to unfasten the row of hooks along the back of her gown and untie the last of the lacings. "All done," he said finally, his voice unmistakably husky.

"Thank you." She ached to tip back the slightest bit and encourage his embrace, but she could not bring herself to do it. What if he stepped away instead of drawing her into his arms? The gown was loose and already slipping off her shoulders, so she let it fall further and held her breath in the hope he might do something.

She was scantily clad.

Were men not aroused by this? Several books she had read on the topic indicated this was quite an effective seduction tool.

He muttered something unintelligible and stepped away.

Syd shook off her disappointment, quietly removed the gown, and then carefully set it aside so that it would not wrinkle. But she was not discouraged, for she still needed to remove her corset. Could she tempt him with that? She did not know why it was suddenly so important to wring as much as she could out of this intimate moment.

Perhaps because she did not believe this make-believe marriage would ever work out. Even if they stayed married, would they live together? Share a bedchamber? This was so unlikely. She needed to acquire blissful memories before they parted ways.

They were on good terms at present.

He had just admitted that he was not averse to her.

Why not seize the opportunity before she riled him again?

She turned away from him while removing her corset.

That garment laced up the front so she did not have difficulty removing it. However, she would need assistance tomorrow when doing it up because getting the laces through the eyelets was not nearly as easy to do as pulling them out.

She felt Octavian's scorching gaze on her all the while.

The man had eyes that could burn into her soul.

She sighed as she set the corset over the chair atop her gown. "It is easier if I sleep in my shift, don't you think?"

"Easier for who?" he muttered. "Yes, fine."

He walked to the other side of the bed and removed his boots and shirt while she slipped in between the sheets. When he settled beside her, she realized the bed was not quite as big as she had first imagined. Octavian sank onto the mattress, causing it to dip on his side.

"Oh!" She rolled right into him.

He bolted upright to a sitting position the moment her bosom landed on his chest and firmly pressed against it. "This is why I knew it wouldn't work. I'll sleep on the floor."

She grabbed his arm, requiring both hands to properly wrap them around the rock hard muscle. "Don't you dare. We are smart adults. We shall figure this out. Just lie back and do not utter another word of complaint."

To her surprise, he did no more than growl softly. "Now what?"

They had been given four pillows in all, no doubt because this was the inn's finest and most expensive room. She now propped two of those pillows alongside his body to serve as a barrier between him and her. "See, easily solved."

She lay back down and promptly rolled against the pillows, but she did not see this as a problem since she was not directly against his big body. "Perfect," she mumbled and closed her eyes. Only then did she realize that she should have braided her hair because left unbound, it now spilled over onto his side of the bed.

Well, no matter.

Octavian had just snuffed out the candle and turned away from her. He was not happy with their sleeping arrangements and would do his best to distance himself from her.

Drat.

She was so brave about everything, so why not this? She wanted him to look at her.

She wanted to stare into his silver eyes.

It did not matter that it was too dark to see anything with the candle blown out.

Well, she would just have to content herself with having a giant oak in bed beside her whose skin held the subtly pleasant scent of bergamot and who was taking up most of the mattress.

She liked that he was a big man with big shoulders.

Would he be angry if she told him this was nice?

This was one of her last thoughts before she fell asleep.

Was he thinking of her, too?