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mean—”
     
     He threw up a hand. “Forget it. I shouldn’t be surprised. There is really no reason for you to believe otherwise.” He turned from her and stalked to the window. The pale afternoon sun lit the planes of his face, his auburn hair a slash of color against the deep blue curtains, his body rigid with anger. “What a damnable mess.”
     
     Fiona shivered a bit in the chill of the bedchamber. She thought longingly of the warmth she’d felt tucked against Jack, of the way his hard chest muscles had pillowed her cheek, of the way his scent had tickled her nose. A slow heat began to warm her, beginning down low and moving higher, a deep tug of attraction, rich and sweet.
     
     Heaven help her, she waslusting. The realization sent a flood of heat to her cheeks. “If our families think I am already with child, they will have to halt their animosity, which will give us some time to—” She closed her mouth. Heavens, how would she finishthat sentence?
     
     His gaze narrowed. “Time to what?”
     
     “Time to—to—to—”Dear Lord, please open the earth and swallow me whole! How had she let her tongue get her into such a fix? “You know what I mean.”
     
     “No,” he said slowly. “Explain yourself.”
     
     “You know what I meant!” Fiona snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “While it will not be pleasant for us—”
     
     “Speak for yourself.” An unexpected smile twisted his lips. “Making the child is the only good part of this plan. If you remember anything, you should remember that.”
     
     Oh, God, she did remember. She remembered every sweet, delicious, breath-gasping moment. Slowly, she nodded.
     
     His gaze traveled over her, hot and possessive, leaving a sizzling trail. “I’d take you here and now, if it suited you and we had the time.”
     
     Fiona’s gaze flickered to the bed, then back, a delicious shiver feathering over her skin. She imagined them there, legs twined, hearts pounding as he—
     
     No. She had to stay focused. She could not become distracted by such things.
     
     “Fiona?” His gaze rested on her mouth.
     
     “Y-yes?” Her lips tingled as if he’d touched them.
     
     “You said you’d notified your brothers that we are married?”
     
     “Yes. I sent a note to both my family and yours.”
     
     Jack sighed. “I was afraid of that. Your brothers will arrive soon.”
     
     She shrugged. “I suppose so.”
     
     “Wonderful,” Jack muttered. He stalked to the window, then back, pausing before her. “How did we get here?”
     
     “In my carriage.”
     
     He turned on his heel and went back to the window, pushing aside the curtain to peer outside. “It’s getting cloudy and the wind is picking up.”
     
     Fiona sighed. “That was me, I fear. You have sorely tried my patience.”
     
     “As you have mine.” He released the curtain. “I am not going to wait for your brothers to get close enough to open the skies.”
     
     Fiona wished she could ask Jack for reassurance that everything would be fine, but such luxuries were for real marriages. The thought made her shoulders sag.
     
     “The carriage is away from the front door, which is good.” Jack yanked the latch up and pushed the window wide. Fresh air blew into the room, lifting the curtain and shaking the tassled ties.
     
     “Jack?” she asked, bemused. “Why does it matter if the carriage is near the door or not?”
     
     Securing the curtains to either side, he turned and walked back to her, then bent and swept her into his arms as easily as if she were a feather pillow.
     
     Fiona grabbed him around the neck and held on tightly. “Wh-what are you doing?”
     
     He grinned, all dark auburn hair and deep blue eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.
     
     “Kincaid, this is not funny! Put me down now.”
     
     “No, love. You’ve planned things this far; now it’s my turn.”
     
     “Your turn?”
     
     He shook his head. “You