Page 41 of Marriage Most Scandalous
Margaret dropped her forehead against the door and groaned. She understood the threat. But he was all the way across the room. Surely she could get out of there before he reached her. And then chase her down the corridor? Bloody hell. She wouldn’t put that past him.
Angry now that he was being utterly unreasonable again in trying to keep her there, she turned about to blast him with a piece of her mind and lost every thought.
He was standing there with his pants back on, thank God, but still no shirt, stockings, or shoes. The expanse of his chest was amazing. He had seemed to be a prime specimen under his clothes, but without them, it was confirmed without a doubt. A Corinthian body, firm muscles, not a speck of excess flesh. A thin mat of dark hair across his chest that didn’t travel much lower than that. Tight, firm waist that led to narrow hips before his very long legs began. Thick bunches of muscles in his thighs rippled and smoothed out with each movement he made.
His long black hair had come undone from the tight knot where it was usually contained at his nape. It spread across his shoulders and back. Even when he tossed some of it back with one hand, it fell back to annoy him. He looked quite wild. He looked so handsome she could barely breathe.
She searched frantically for the anger she’d so justifiably felt toward him last night, found it, but still couldn’t open her mouth while he was standing there half naked. So she crossed to her bureau to find a pair of stockings that matched, praying he’d be finished dressing by the time she faced him again.
He was, mostly. His shirt on, at least half fastened and tucked into his pants, he was sitting in the chair now putting on his shoes. His hair was still in wild disarray, though, and he simply looked so different like that! Not so in control, certainly not so sinister. She had a brief urge to help him with his hair. Actually, she just wanted to touch it, it looked so soft.
“You need a barber,” she said curtly.
“I need a drink,” he shot back, then pinned her with his golden eyes. “That was quite possibly the worst night of hell I’ve ever experienced.”
“Muscles aching from the hard floor?” she smirked.
“No, Maggie, aching for you.”
Her mouth dropped open. The fluttering in her belly that his words caused actually felt—pleasant. But she forgot to breathe again. What a horrid habit that was starting to be. She swung around, gulped in a deep breath, started to head to the bed to sit down to change her stockings, but quickly vetoed that idea and moved to the chaise longue instead.
By the time she had her own shoes on and stood up to glance at Sebastian, he had finished dressing as well, even had his hair clubbed back again. Much better. At least he looked civilized. But he was just standing there staring at her. Waiting for her to reply to his last outlandish remark? As if she would, she snorted to herself.
Calmly, or at least as calmly as she could manage with his eyes so intent on her, she said, “You really are going to have to be reasonable about this, Sebastian. There simply isn’t enough privacy in here for us to share this room.”
“I agree.”
“Thank God.” She went weak with relief.
“But that doesn’t solve our dilemma.”
He wasn’t going to be reasonable after all. She could see that, and it incensed her. “We don’t have a dilemma!”
“Be quiet, Maggie.”
She glared at him. “Don’t you dare start ordering me about again. If I want to chatter for a week, I bloody well will.”
“I was referring to your tone, m’dear. Flay me all you like, just do it without shouting. The walls are thick, but they’re not that thick.”
“Oh,” she said nonplussed and with a blush.
“Now, as I was saying,” he continued. “I do have another suggestion. But first, tell me, where did you get the kind of money you intend to pay me with?”
“I don’t have it, but I can get it. My family owned many properties. I’ll just sell a few.”
“Unless you’re talking about ducal estates, you won’t be getting more’n a few thousand pounds for ‘properties.’ ”
She blushed. He was probably right. But she simply hadn’t thought that far ahead.
When she didn’t answer, he added, “You could pay me off in trade.”
She raised a brow at him. “What trade? I have nothing to trade you.”
His golden gaze moved over her. “Your body will do.”
She drew in her breath sharply. “You are despicable!”
“No, just randy at the moment.”
