Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

THE NIGHT HAD turned cool, but Syd slept comfortably and felt quite cozy come morning. The sky had now lightened from black to bleak gray. She knew it would not be long before one of the inn's staff knocked at their door to deliver their breakfast.

She started to slip out of bed and then suddenly stopped.

Octavian had turned toward her sometime in the night and now had his big, muscled arm around her waist despite the two pillows still between them.

Drat.

Even in sleep, he maintained their barrier.

She placed her hand on the first pillow and ever so slowly tried to ease it out from between them. After all, was it not sensible to remove them before anyone on the inn's staff came in and noticed?

They might grow suspicious and alert the innkeeper something was not right.

Who would ever believe Octavian's wife wanted a barricade between her and that gorgeous ox of a man, especially after she had made such a fuss about theirs being a love match?

But no sooner had she started to move the pillow aside than Octavian emitted a seductive growl. "Don't."

She inhaled lightly. "Ah, you are awake. Why should I not set them aside? We are about to get up anyway. Where is the harm?"

His arm was still wrapped around her waist. Wordlessly, he drew her up against the length of his warm body. "Ooof! Octavian?"

His eyes were closed, but he now opened one.

Despite its silver glint of menace, she smiled at him. "Good morning."

"It can't be. Still too dark outside."

"Yes, well…it is more gray than inky blackness." She snuggled closer, quite liking the heat of his body. "The first rays of sunlight are just starting to peek through the clouds. May I please remove this barrier between us?"

"No."

"Are you always this grumpy in the morning?"

"Yes. And it is not morning yet."

"I beg to differ." She touched his face because it was such a beautiful, manly face. He had the makings of a beard that scratched against her palm as she rubbed it along his jaw. "Did you sleep well? I did. I think I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow."

"I know," he said with a trace of humor in his voice.

"Oh, did I snore? Move too much and accidentally kick you?"

"No, Syd. You didn't snore or kick me. You tossed and turned, then finally curled up in a little ball beside me and purred like a kitten. Were you dreaming of me?" he teased.

She laughed softly. "Since you accused me of purring in my sleep, I was obviously dreaming of cats. In truth, I do not recall dreaming of anything. But is this why you placed your arm around me? To quiet me?"

"You weren't noisy. I did not mind those soft purrs. But I was afraid you were going to fall out of bed since you were shifting around restlessly. Not that I blame you. I was taking up most of the mattress and left you a bit cramped." He yawned as he now shifted onto his back. The sheet drifted lower as he raised his arms over his head and stretched with a soft, animal growl.

Mother in heaven.

She tried not to gawk at the magnificence of his body. But who could overlook the lean, hard length of him, and that broad chest with a dusting of dark hair across its breadth? His skin was bronzed, no doubt due to his years at sea, and his muscles were a masterpiece of sculptured art.

How could she ever be a match for this man?

That he held onto her throughout the night signified nothing. He only held her because he believed she was going to run away from him.

Yes, this was likely the reason.

He did not trust her and meant to keep her restrained.

If only he knew that she would do no such thing.

First of all, her best chance of helping her father was to marry Octavian and have him make whatever bargain necessary with Sir Henry to keep her father safe. Second of all, sometime during the night she had resolved to seduce Octavian.

No matter what happened afterward, she wanted one night of wantonness with him. He would not fully claim her, for he had made the terms of their pretend marriage quite clear. Losing her innocence would seal their fate and make an annulment impossible. But she had read books on the topic of love and knew there were other ways to enjoy each other without need of that final act.

She quickly shook out of the thought before Octavian caught on to what was going through her mind since he knew her so well.

Too well.

It galled her, but also made her feel good that someone understood her as thoroughly as Octavian did.

Perhaps this was an indication they were meant for each other.

So why was she insisting on having them part ways once she came of age and did not need her father's consent to marry? Why would she not think of herself first and encourage Octavian to make theirs a real marriage? Instead, she had made it ever so clear that she wished to maintain a make-believe marriage.

It was her fault that he now carried so many doubts about her. He was not even sure they would exchange vows once they reached Gretna Green.

In failing to agree wholeheartedly to a committed union, she had also given Octavian a way out. What if she wanted to go ahead with their marriage and he decided when standing over the blacksmith's anvil that he would rather not?

The realization that their time together could be over by the end of the week dampened her spirits.

She was going to miss him fiercely.

This left her feeling miserable, but she masked it with a layer of cheerfulness.

Octavian emitted another low, seductive sound, grabbed his shirt from the foot of the bed, and then tossed it on as he rose to peer out the window. "Blast, I think it's going to rain today."

"This is England. It always rains." She climbed out of bed to join him by the window and almost squealed in surprise when he tucked an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. The gesture felt easy and natural, as though this is how it was meant to be between them.

He grinned when she snuggled against him. "Are you cold, Syd?"

"A little." It was the tiniest fib, for she was in her bare feet and the wooden floor was cool. She wasn't cold yet, but would be if she did not soon don her stockings.

He wrapped both arms around her now. "Better?"

"Yes." Perhaps she would not have to work so hard to gain his agreement about a night of intimacy between them.

Then she noticed the inn's ostler and a few others already moving about the courtyard. Of course, he was not holding her in his arms because he was besotted with her and had to touch her. He was just keeping up the pretense of being a newly married couple on the chance any of them were watching. "I'll need help getting dressed," she reminded him, hoping he did not notice her disappointment.

"All right. Since we're up anyway, let's get you out of those nightclothes." The words came out in a suggestive manner, as though the prospect was arousing to him. But this would mean he was not completely unaffected by her.

Even if he was having intimate thoughts about her, did it signify anything?

She was not the only woman he had ever taken to his bed.

Although he was discreet about it, likely he had taken many, many before her.

Being a kind man by nature, he probably embraced all these young ladies just as he was doing with her now. He must have helped them dress afterward because any young lady would not hesitate to shed her clothing before performing the act with Octavian.

Even she wanted to shed her clothing around this man.

This alarmed her, but she also regarded it as a learning opportunity.

Well, none of it mattered.

He was not going to remove his trousers for her and she was a fool for even considering it. Besides, they were in a hurry to get on the road. Was this not far more important? They had almost a full week of illicit bed sharing before they reached Scotland. Plenty of time for them to get better acquainted, and plenty of time for her to work up the courage to seduce him.

Waiting a few days before acting on her plan seemed prudent.

After all, they had both been quite tired after this first day of travel. She was always short-tempered when exhausted and Octavian would likely be the same.

They would settle into a comfortable travel routine within a few days.

It would also give her the chance to get to know him better. Yes, they had been friends for a while now, but had not really seen much of each other since his duties so often took him outside of London.

It was not yet time to do more than sleep together in the same bed.

She watched Octavian move about the room.

Dear heaven, the man was a wonder of nature.

She was going to put her plan into action before they reached Scotland.

There was only the slightest snag.

How was she to get him to cooperate? Especially if he believed she was doing this because she wanted her one night with him and then intended to run off.

Running away was still a possibility.

She would do it for his sake, if it proved necessary.

He wanted to spare her a life of misery with Sir Henry, but she wanted to spare him a life of misery with her . In all this time, he had not once mentioned the beautiful debutante everyone in the ton was certain he was courting.

She was the one dropping occasional hints to encourage him to talk about Lady Clementine, but he never took her up on it.

Lady Clementine was not merely beautiful, she was considered a matchless beauty.

A true ton diamond.

If Octavian was not going to talk about her, then Syd decided that she would not either.

Still, it could not be overlooked that he might have feelings for her.

Nor could Syd ignore that he had reshuffled his plans to run up to Scotland and this may have interfered with his plans to propose to Lady Clementine.

Had he set aside his own happiness in order to rescue her from marriage to Sir Henry?

Syd resolved to have an honest discussion with Octavian about his marital intentions, but not before she had her night of fantasy with him.

In fairness to him, their talk had to take place before they exchanged vows because she would never allow Octavian to bind himself to her in marriage if he loved Lady Clementine.

She inhaled lightly.

When had protecting Octavian become more important to her than her own happiness? Well, she had always felt the need to protect him, whether from a tavern brawl– even if she had started it– or her horrible family.

Warmth curled in her belly as he continued to hold her in his arms.

Could this make-believe situation turn into something wonderful and enduring?

Were the gossips all wrong about his feelings for Lady Clementine?

Getting to the truth was of vital importance, not only for his sake but for hers.

She cared for him.

However, she refused to call this yearning she was feeling love.

Love interfered with rational decisions.

Besides, he was never going to fall in love with her. Why fool herself into thinking that he would ever prefer her over Lady Clementine?