L ucy tried not to look at her husband as he stepped into the carriage. To her relief, he pulled the door shut and slid into the seat opposite her. She was embarrassed to admit that while she’d anticipated being held in a man’s arms, now that the moment had arrived and this stranger could lawfully pull her close, she was afraid.

The coach jolted into motion. He’d told her the ride to his home was forty-five minutes. It seemed an interminable amount of time to spend with him alone in such a confined space. What could they possibly talk about? What if he were a bore? What if he found her a bore? Long minutes passed. She wracked her brain for something to say.

“Why did you marry me?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Why did you marry me? You clearly didn’t want a wife. Then you—” Her pulse quickened at the memory of his declaration that he didn’t allow his betrothed to dance the waltz with another man. “For goodness sake, what possessed you to say what you did to Lord Kinlow?”

“Did you wish to dance with him?”

She frowned. “Of course not.”

“Then we are in agreement.”

“We never disagreed,” she said.

“Even better.” He nodded.

What was wrong with him? “Are you ill?”

“Ill? Nae. I’ve never felt better.”

Lucy studied him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

The man was intentionally being obtuse. “Why did you marry me?”

“We were betrothed.”

She gave a soft snort.

He lifted a brow. “Were we not betrothed?

“You did not want to marry me.”

“A man is allowed to change his mind.”

“Rubbish,” she said.

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “A man isn’t allowed to change his mind?”

“A man doesn’t change his mind about marriage so quickly,” she said.

“Four days ago I would have agreed.”

Lucy considered. “Are you saying you wanted to marry me?”

His expression gentled. “Lass, even Stirling couldn’t have forced me to marry against my will.”

Her throat went dry. “Why then?”

He smiled. “Only God knows why any man wants to marry a woman.”

She stared for an instant, then rolled her eyes. “Heaven help me.”

He grinned and she couldn’t quite prevent an answering half smile.

His expression sobered. “Are you terribly disappointed that your father married you to me?”

“Oh no,” she quickly said. “I am quite pleased, actually.”

A speculative light appeared in his eyes. “Indeed?”

Her cheeks flamed. Why was he looking at her that way? He looked as if he wanted to eat her…or maybe, kiss her. Would she go wild with his kisses?

The carriage lurched. Quinn swung his gaze to the window. The carriage jolted again. Lucy jerked to the side, nearly slamming into the door. Quinn leapt across the seat and dragged her against him an instant before the carriage listed heavily to the left with a loud crack. Lucy was enveloped by the scent of wool, sandalwood soap—and him.

“Whoa!” the coachman shouted.

Lucy buried her face in Quinn’s jacket when the carriage swung perilously to the side. Her heart raced as his arms tightened around her when they slid toward the door. He yanked her onto his lap and twisted in time to shield her as his shoulder struck the side of the carriage. The coach dragged forward another few seconds, then came to a grinding halt.

“Are you unharmed?” He pulled back and peered down at her.

Lucy nodded, but couldn’t lift her head from his chest. Her heart raced.

The coach tilted slightly and she started.

“It’s just the coachman,” Quinn soothed. “Stay still until he opens the door, love.”

The door opened and the coachman stepped into view. “Are you unharmed, sir?”

Quinn nodded. “Is it safe to move?”

The man nodded. “Aye. The wheel broke, but it’s sitting solidly on the ground now.”

Lucy lifted her head. Her face had gone pale, but otherwise, she appeared, none the worse for wear.

“Are you ready, love?”

Surprise flickered in her eyes and his cock pulsed. He pulled her close and she threw her arms about his neck as he ducked and stepped from the coach. If he wasn’t careful, he would embarrass both of them. How was it possible that she felt so right in his arms? He lowered her feet to the ground. She took a deep breath as she regained her balance and he was certain she clung to him for a heartbeat longer than was necessary.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

She nodded. “Aye.”

“Good.” Quinn turned, took a step to the coach, and inspected the wheel. He squatted for a better look, then frowned. “The wheel simply split apart.” He looked up at Iain. “How deep was the rut we hit?”

“We didnae hit a rut, my lord.” He scratched his chin. “As you say, the wheel just split.”

Quinn ran a finger over the break. “I doubt it can be repaired. We’ll have to replace it.” He rose. They would have to seek help in the nearest village. “Help me disengage the horses from the carriage. We will ride to Ardbuie.”

Once the horses were free and Allen had gotten Lucy’s bags from the coach and tied them to his horse, Quinn returned to her. “I’m sorry, lass, but there are no saddles. You will have to ride with me.”

She smiled and it seemed the world brightened. “It’s no trouble.”

He hoped she would think the same of riding two miles on his lap.

***

Lucy was sure her cheeks were crimson. It had been bad enough when the baron yanked her onto his lap when the carriage broke down. This, however, was far worse. She’d never sat on a man’s lap, and she was surprised at the hard thighs beneath her bottom—and the hard length that pressed against her hip. She kept her gaze on her lap.

Thankfully, the coachman rode a few paces ahead. She prayed he didn’t look back and guess her embarrassment. They rode slowly. Still, the rise and fall of the horse forced her hip to rub against Quinn’s… She swallowed. This was not how she’d expected to spend her wedding day.

“I’m sorry for this inconvenience.,” Quinn said.

“It isn’t your fault.” Lucy kept her eyes on her lap. Good Lord, she was glad he couldn’t see her face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Lucy shook her head.

“Are you certain?”

She nodded.

He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up toward him. “I don’t believe you.” A wicked light gleamed in his eyes.

Lucy stiffened. “You are making fun of me.”

The horse stumbled. Lucy threw her arms about Quinn’s neck.

He chuckled. “You can hug me like this all day, if you like.”

Lucy blinked, then understood his meaning. She shoved back and felt herself slip backwards. She grabbed for his shirt and his arms tightened around him.

“That’s not bad, either,” he said.

Lucy snapped her head up and met his gaze. The wicked delight had been replaced with an intensity that took her breath. His eyes dropped to her mouth. He drew back on the reins. The horse stopped and she froze as Quinn lowered his head. Their mouths touched and she closed her eyes. A tremor rippled through her at the pleasant pressure of his lips against hers. He breathed deep and she was surprised when their breaths mingled. His arms tightened around her and she melted closer.

Tentatively, she slid a hand up his arm to his neck. Something flicked her lips. She jumped. Quinn chuckled. Another flick of his tongue against her mouth. Then he applied gentle pressure with his tongue and she realized he wanted her to part her lips. Her heart beat faster. Lucy parted her lips a fraction. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and she gasped when he tangled with her tongue. She quashed the impulse to pull away. A wife must submit to her husband’s attentions.

But this…this, she realized, was quite nice. A pleasurable warmth spread through her. He tasted like the port he’d drunk after breakfast. The desire to get closer to him rose and she nestled nearer his chest. He groaned and she shivered when the sound reverberated through her. The hair at his nape tickled the tips of her fingers. The locks were surprisingly soft. Lucy slid her hand upward into his hair. Her pulse skipped a beat. She liked the silken flow of hair between her fingers. Lucy became aware of a thrumming between her legs, a beat in rhythm with her heart. What—

Quinn abruptly broke the kiss and buried his face in her hair. What had she done? Did he not like her? What would she do if he didn’t?

At last, he lifted his head and nudged the horse into action. He looked down at her

“Beware, sweet, you tempt me so much that I will not be able to wait to bed you properly at home.”

A strange thrill ripped through her. “Really?”

He smiled. “Really.”

She stared up at him with a combination of wonder and desire that nearly did Quinn in. It was clear she had no experience with men. But her desire had surfaced. She would be so sweet. He took a steadying breath. Bloody hell, could he wait until they reached Ardbuie and then home? It seemed an eternity before he’d be able to make love to his wife. He already suffered torment.

As if to taunt him, she straightened, bumping her hip against his cock. Sweet agony tightened his bollocks and he feared he would spill his seed in his breeches. He kept his gaze straight ahead for the rest of the ride and forced himself to think about the stable roof that needed mending.