The Earl and His Virgin Countess(14)

“Now it is you who sounds disappointed.”

“Perhaps I am.”

Really? Until he’d answered her in kind, she hadn’t been aware she’d spoken aloud.

“Why are you surprised? I made no secret of my attraction to you at the ball. What makes you think it changed simply because you are my betrothed?”

“For one, I punched you in the eye. For another, I have been downright rude to you this evening.”

“With good reason, and, if you think those things can delay the amorous appetite of a man, you have a great deal more to learn about my sex than I thought.”

“So you believe me about the contract?”

“I believe someone led you to believe, as well as your father, that a union     between us is a foregone conclusion. Until I have spoken with the family retainers, I won’t have an idea of what has been going on.” Andrew peeked out the window to the street below before facing her again. “Either way, I do not doubt your side of the story. You had nothing to gain by telling me, short of the satisfaction of watching all color seep from my face. But, in the end, if you are truly meant to marry me, showing me the extent of your violent nature would be the wrong way to do so.”

“I am not violent. You simply bring out the worst in—”

“Shh.” He placed a finger on her lips. “I was jesting.”

“Oh.”

“I warned you about that facial expression.”

“You did?”

“Perhaps warned is too strong a word.” Before she could reply, he took her lips with his, kissing her deeper and more thoroughly than the first time. Thoughts of who he was didn’t stop her, for he remained her betrothed, at least for the moment, so she had every right to kiss and be kissed by him. Perhaps the location wasn’t proper, but nothing about their relationship had gone according to plan, so why would this?

One second, she lay on the bed, propped up on pillows, and the next he had her lying across his lap, his arms around her before returning his attention to her with more fervor than the other two embraces combined.

For reasons she didn’t understand, he had branded himself on her. Heaven help her, she still wanted Andrew. Not with the schoolgirl crush she’d had as a young teen. The nervousness she’d experienced whenever she’d heard he was at his estate paled in comparison to her present jitters. Small tremors ran through her until they became outright shivers. He responded by tightening his embrace.

How long they sat in each other’s arms she wasn’t sure, but she became aware of a soft knock on the door leading from the bedchamber to the dining room. Miranda would have giggled at the long-suffering groan Andrew let out if she’d been able to catch her breath.

“Don’t you go anywhere,” he commanded.

“Where am I likely to hobble to?” The husky tone in her voice surprised her.

“I will be right back. Or at least back as quickly as I can be.” He kissed her one last time before striding away far more slowly than usual.

Falling back on the pillows, she smiled. Though her plan for the evening had been to lose her virginity in order to void the betrothal contract, she had no reason to complain. She’d arrived expecting one thing, yet, now, lay there feeling tingly and downright giddy.

She had so many ideas, or perhaps beliefs, about who Andrew, the man, was. And, so far, they’d all been proven wrong. The years Miranda had spent being groomed to be his countess had all been for naught, because the man before her wasn’t the man she’d been trained to marry, he wasn’t the cold, heartless man she’d believed him to be. No, he was considerate and passionate. Rather than expressing disbelief or anger with her, Andrew had taken the news about their betrothal with concern, and also with anger directed at those who had left him in the dark. She believed he’d been in the dark about the betrothal, just as she believed those who had were about to feel his wrath.

The biggest shock had been the discovery she liked Andrew as a person, as well as an earl. His answer about hiring people to put them to work had been the first of many things to start thawing the ice block around her heart. She had grown up idolizing him, all the while the girls in town would tease her mercilessly about his lack of attention. Yet Miranda had continued to see him through puppy-love eyes, although only as the handsome lord, not the man behind the title. That all changed, however. While none of the people who worked his land ever spoke poorly of him, she’d found fault in him where she could. As the years passed, the faults grew ever larger in line with his neglect of her.

Now, the faults built on misconceptions were replaced with new ideals of a man she might grow to love. Not a young girl’s notion of love and marriage to a lord, but one built from the respect of a woman who views life with eyes wide open. Discovering his true wants and needs, she’d concluded they couldn’t be satisfied by the porcelain doll she’d been reared to be, but by a partner both in society and, if the kisses he’d graced her with were anything to go by, in the bedroom as well.