23 - The Bad Good Morning

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I feel like I'm committing a horrible sin, Fye thought as she and Xander stepped into her tent after their brief wedding ceremony. Margaret had beamed the entire time, happiness oozing out of her—especially when she mentioned that soon she would have grandchildren. Fye hadn't had the heart to tell her that she would never get any grandchildren. Let her have her delusions for a while longer.

Reuben had found the entire wedding amusing—or, at least, he pretended to find it amusing—and he had gotten slightly drunk, causing him to very loudly give Xander some advice about the wedding night. That had been the highlight of the evening, and it had taken Fye's mind off what she had done. The horrible, unforgiveable thing that she had done.

She had married Xander.

What had she been thinking?

Well, there was no undoing it now. And Xander was tolerable, so...

She shook her head. If she thought about it too much, she would explode. Or lose her mind. Or plan to murder her new husband.

At least the ordeal of the wedding was over now and Fye could move onto concentrating on more important things—like the melee tomorrow.

And the man in her tent.

She took the pins from her hair and let the long locks cascade over her shoulders. Xander gave her that look, the one that caused the tingles.

"No," Fye said.

He smiled. "I know." But despite knowing, he took one of her hands and pulled him closer to her. His arm snaked around her waist, bringing the front of her body against his. He was so... hard. So... strong.

"I said no," she said, her voice breathier than she meant it to be.

"Why shouldn't we enjoy ourselves?" he whispered in her ear. "We can do things that won't make babies." His hand landed on her waist before it made a trail down her side, caressing her hip and fondling certain other parts of her.

A thousand alarm bells went off in Fye's head. Other things went off in other parts of her body, but she refused to acknowledge that. Now that she was alone with him, she was starting to realize the gravity of the mistake she had made when she agreed to marry him.

She could resist him. He might think he was some sort of divine masculine thing that God had sent to Earth to do certain things to Fye, but Fye knew better. Xander was nothing but a cad. A scut. She could ignore the strength in his arms and the allure of his green eyes. The way he looked at her? Didn't matter. If she had to, Fye would gouge his eyes out to stop him from looking at her like that.


"I don't think..." she said, a little breathlessly.

Then his arms were gone from around her. He planted a kiss on her forehead. "You seem tired," he said. "Get some rest. I'll sleep on the ground."

She stood there, dumbfounded and dizzy. Tired? Yes, she was tired. But...

How does he do this to me?

"You don't have to sleep on the ground," she said, trying to coax her head into stopping spinning. "My bed is wide enough for both of us. I'll, um..." She picked up her nightgown from where it rested on top of her of her bags.

"Shall I turn around?" he asked with a smirk. Without a drop of hesitation, he stripped off his surcoat and the tunic underneath, revealing once again those glorious muscles that had unbalanced her the first time she saw him. Then he kicked off his boots. Then his pants dropped, leaving him in a loose pair of shorts.

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