John Osborne has a promising career with the War Office and lacks for nothing. Except, possibly, a wife. Unfortunately, the woman he wants only has eyes for someone else. When a shared friend offers to help him win his love's heart--if only he will...
She was silent long enough for him to think she had finally dropped it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and prepared to count sheep.
"Is it because of Olivia?"
He never should have said anything. Why had he? The expectant silence grated on him.
"It's personal."
"Of course. You're right." She sighed. "I shouldn't have asked."
The mattress shifted again as she flopped herself on her back. Maybe he could finally get some sleep. He just needed to ignore the warm body next to his. That would not lie still. Her bottom brushed against his hand when she turned to her side, and he quickly moved away.
"Do you always fidget this much?" It was almost a growl. He breathed in. There was no reason for his bad temper.
"I'm used to being alone," she muttered. "No one's ever complained before."
"Because no one has shared a bed with you."
"Exactly!"
When she shifted in bed again, her legs tangled in the bedsheets and pulled them partially off him. She must be the most vexing woman of his acquaintance. With a yank, he pulled the sheets back. Only Mary was so twisted in them she came too, her body colliding with his side and her arm stretching over his chest.
He shouldn't be so aware of her, but the warmth of her body against his was more enticing than he cared to admit. Her fingers splayed over his heart as she prepared to shove away from him, but something stopped her, and her hand moved slightly over his heated skin. She hesitated before slowly sliding her hand across his chest, following the gentle curve with her fingertips and leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Shifting so she could reach his face, her hot breath fanned his ear a moment before she purred, "Maybe we should try some of those things we saw at the party..."
His arse was out of the bed before she could say or do anything further.
"I will sleep on the floor!"
The darkness of their room hid most of her, leaving her a pale apparition in her billowing white nightgown, but he could hear her laughter.
His eyes narrowed. "You are not nearly as amusing as you believe yourself to be."
Her laughter abated, but he could still hear the mirth in her voice. "Really? I thought it was quite amusing, indeed. Never has a man left a woman's bed so swiftly!"
"If you wanted me to sleep on the floor, you only needed to say so." He raked a hand through his hair, grateful for the darkness hiding the uninvited effect her touch and words had on his body. Hell.
"No need. I was only teasing. Revenge for you stealing the covers." It grated on him how entertaining she seemed to find the situation. How unaffected she appeared to be.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at her in the dark. "I only pulled them back after you took them."
"You can't sleep on the floor," she pointed out, sounding all too reasonable. "These are our only bedsheets, and then you'll have none."
"And you would not even let me have the sheets in return for the sole use of the bed? Selfish." He smiled despite his frustration. It was strange, but he enjoyed arguing with her.
She scoffed. "No, why should I go cold simply because you are a prude who can't share a bed?"
"You're the one who wilfully chased me out of it!"
"Do not worry." The white shape moved to the far end of the bed. "I promise I won't do it again. We both know I'm the last person you'd want to do anything beyond sleeping with, anyway."
With a grunt, he got back into bed, lying down on his side with his back towards her. He wasn't so sure about that. His body certainly disagreed.
"Good night, Lady Mary."
"Good night, Dull Osborne."
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Damn if she was not able to defuse the worst of his moods.
~~~~~~
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