His Contract Bride (22 page)

“
I know.” He sat down and patted the area next to him. “How about if you contemplate the importance of which path to take while we're here.”

The way she smiled as she took her place next to him took his breath away. “I wonder what Cook sent,” she said, reaching for the hamper.

“
I've never been a spy for the Crown, so my detective skills might be lacking, but I think you'll know if you open the lid.”

She drummed her fingers along the top. “My, aren't you dripping sarcasm today.”

“
I'm just trying to match wits with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You're incorrigible.” Her fingers stopped their tapping, and she lifted the lid then quickly shut it. “I'm not about to be greeted by a bowl of gruel, am I?”

“
Why should you say that?”

Regina wagged a finger at him. “I know all about you, Lord Watson. John had to learn his tricks from someone.”

His lips twitched.

“
Ha,” she said, playfully jabbing a finger into his shoulder. “I do believe something is afoot, and you, my lord, are the culprit.”

“
Open it and you'll see what's in there,” he encouraged, no longer able to contain his grin. She was a skeptical one, she was.

Slowly, she lifted the wicker lid of the picnic hamper and peered inside.

“
What do you see?”

“
Strawberry tarts,” she said excitedly.

Edward lifted his eyebrows at her. What an unusual creature he'd married. “Have you a weakness for sweets?”

“
Yes, but not to worry, I'll be careful to eat them in moderation.”

He waved her off. “You may eat them all, if you like.”

Abandoning the hamper, Regina handed him one of the tarts. “Here.”

He took it from her and held it between his fingers, waiting while she got herself one. “Mmm,” she said, sinking her teeth into it. A little of the strawberry filling oozed out the side of the tart and settled on the edge of her bottom lip. Pulling the tart away, her pink tongue darted out and licked away the filling.

His mouth watered. The way she ate that confounded tart had to be the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. He shifted so not to alert her to his arousal.

“
Forgive me,” she murmured, when she was finished, her eyes wide and her cheeks slightly pink. “I didn't mean to make a spectacle of myself.”

“
You're not forgiven,” he said, doing his best not to grind his teeth at the phrase he most hated to hear from her lips. He set down the tart she'd given him and reached up to rest his hand against her cheek then released her lower lip from her teeth's brutal hold. “It was a spectacle I enjoyed.”

She gasped; her pink cheeks growing red.

Edward reached up and wrapped his finger around a fallen tendril of her silky hair, his other hand resting on the blanket next to hers. “I do believe I shall have to ask Cook to serve tarts at every meal.”

“
You do that and you'll have a wife who looks as if she's increasing, even if she's not.”

He gave a lopsided shrug. “I don't care.” Then his eyes went to her abdomen. “Is there a chance?”

A shadow crossed her face. “No.”

Edward covered her hand with his and gently rubbed the pad of his thumb over her row of knuckles. “There's still plenty of time. We've only just begun.” Those final words were a promise. He forced himself to sit back up before he gave into his baser needs and gave her a demonstration of what he'd meant. She was a lady, after all. He couldn't ravish her outside. “I think we'd better eat and be on our way.”

***

“
Which way shall we go?”

She rolled her eyes up toward the sky. “I think I should like to go the way that will have us move at a leisurely pace and be surrounded by tall shade trees.”

“
As the baroness wishes.” Edward used the edge of the paddle to push off. “You're right handed, are you not?”

“
Yes.” What had that to do with anything?

“
Then we shall go to the left. My left, that is,” he said, steering the boat to his left, her right. “You might wish to hold onto the boat right here; it might get bumpy.”

Regina needed no further warning and grasped onto both sides of the boat. “I thought you said it would be leisurely.”

“
It will in a moment,” he said with a grunt. “First, I have to get us there.” He gritted his teeth as he made two large paddle strokes, the muscles in his forearms flexing to quite an impressive size. He sighed with relief. “If you look out the side, you'll see that we now have a small current. Unfortunately, we're going against it now, but it'll help us when we come back. Where this side of the Y and the other drops into the other part of the creek is the most strenuous as the two smaller fingers of the creek are dumping into the main part. But now it'll be smooth.”

Regina released her death grip on the boat and watched her husband paddle. She was quite a fortunate lady to have him.

“
Do you know how to swim?”

Regina started. “Passably, I suppose. Why?”

“
Don't worry, I wasn't thinking of asking you to go for a swim. It'll be too late for that before long. I just wondered if you could.”

“
In that case, yes. My aunt had a pond at her cottage in Essex that I swam in when I was younger.”

“
As I'm sure you've guessed by now, my brothers and I used to swim in this part of the creek.” He ducked his head to avoid getting smacked in the face by a low lying branch. “It has the small current, but it's wider than the other parts.” He pointed to a cluster of tall rocks jutting from the shore. “That's the spot where Trouble gashed his forehead when he thought to be sneaky and send the boat downstream without us knowing.” He shook his head. “His plan would have worked had he not got his foot tangled in the rope.”

“
So then he's always had a little mischievous streak? It didn’t start when he first went to Eton or when your father died?”

He shook his head. “Of course he’s always caused trouble. Every boy does. His just leads him into it more often than not.”

“
Ah, then he must be saying his nightly prayers wrong.”

Edward switched his paddle to the other side. “And how did you reach this conclusion?”

Regina twisted her lips and cocked her head to the side. “All right, you might have to help me, but I think I've spent enough time in your presence that I can put this in a way you'll understand.”

“
All right.”

She ignored the way he was looking at her as if she was a simpleton. “My objective is to prove how John finds himself in so much trouble. My hypothesis is that he says his prayer wrong at night. My observations or research to prove my findings is based on the fact that we had to return to London early after he was sent down from Eton, followed by you making two additional trips to Eton to discuss other matters he was involved in, and now you mention the boat incident. That leads me to my conclusion that, instead of asking the Lord to lead him not into temptation, John asks him just to whisper where it's at.”

The corners of Edward's eyes crinkled with mirth as a giant grin split his face and his body shook with laughter. “Regina, that has to be the best scientific proposal I've ever heard.”

“
Did I do it right?”

“
Close enough,” he said, favoring her with another grin. “Just so you know how right you are, John didn’t actually earn his nickname because he’s a menace. He's a good boy who seems to always be the one who gets caught—no matter how much or little his involvement.” He grunted and moved his paddle to navigate around a cluster of rocks. “When we were boys and we'd play with something we shouldn't, we'd all run when Father came looking for us. Being the youngest, therefore, the slowest, it'd always be John who was caught.” A strained look came over his face that seemed to have nothing to do with his paddling. “Of course, after Mother died, it wasn't so humorous when John was caught.”

Regina waited for him to tell her more, but he didn't and she didn't want to press.

A few minutes later, he pulled out his pocket watch and made a face. “I think it's time we turn around and go back. Would you like to get out for a few minutes and stretch your legs?”

“
If you don't mind.”

“
Not at all.” He paddled over to the shore and helped her out, then started pulling the boat out of the water. “When there's only one paddle, it's easier to take it out to turn it around than try to turn it in the creek.”

“
I can help paddle,” she offered.

“
I know you
can
paddle. But today is for you, so I left my second paddle at home so I wouldn't be tempted to give into an ungentlemanly urge and allow you to.” He winked at her. “John lost the second paddle last year and I have yet to replace it.”

“
I think you just earned yourself a plate of Cook's infamous gruel for dinner.”

Edward's eyes widened. “Damn,” he muttered.

She shook her head. “I shan't count that one since I knew you were having me on. But next time, I might not be so lenient.”

“
Thank you for your generosity.” He pulled the boat the rest of the way out of the water. “Regina, we won't be able to stop again before we get back so if you need to...er...attend to anything private, now would be the time.”

She needed to, but there was no way she could go without help, her skirts were too long and heavy for her to hold. “I think I can wait until we get back.”

He looked doubtful. “I can help, if you need me to.”

“
Thank you for offering, but I believe I'll be all right.”

“
All right, then.” He pushed the boat three quarters of the way into the water then helped her in.

The sun wasn't quite as high or bright anymore; by her guess, it was three or four in the afternoon. The water was calm and serene, just like Edward's face as he paddled. The light splashing as the blade of his paddle skimmed the water and the birds singing filled the air. Edward added to it a moment later with his awful off-tune whistling.

“
Join me,” he encouraged.

“
I can't.”

“
Sure you can. Everyone can whistle,” he said between bars of whatever song was in his head.

“
No, I really can't.”

He stared at her as if he didn't believe her.

“
I don't know how.”

Edward's O-shaped lips held form, but his whistling had stopped. “Have you ever tried?”

She cocked her head to the side. “I don't know. When I was very young, I heard a woman in the park whistle and I remember my mother telling me to stop trying to duplicate the sound, because it'd irritate my father.”

“
I don't know why I find that a surprise,” he mumbled, moving his paddle to the other side of the boat. “All right, what you'll do is pucker your lips like you're about to kiss someone, preferably your husband.”

She coughed at his frank statement.

“
Well, it's true,” he said adamantly.

Now that he was staring at her, there was no way she could do that with her lips.

“
Stop giggling and pucker up,” he teased, making kissing faces at her.

Where had this man come from and what had happened to her husband? “I don't think I can.”

“
Now, I know without any doubt, that's not true. I can even prove it,” he murmured; the seriousness in his voice and the look in his eyes putting an abrupt end to her laughter. He brought the paddle out of the water and rested it across his knees. Then, before she knew what was going on, his right hand came up to rest on her cheek and his soft, warm lips found hers.

Regina's mind spun. He'd kissed her lips so many times when they'd first married. But never with the same intensity as he did either time today. Against her lips, his moved, exerting the most exquisite pressure and she gasped.

Edward took advantage of her parted lips, drawing her bottom lip in between his. His warm tongue ran the length of her lip and a shiver ran through her. His other hand came up to hold onto the other side of her face, holding her mouth against his.

Ever so lightly, he nipped her bottom lip then soothed it with his tongue. She opened her mouth more to him, allowing him to deepen their kiss in a way he never had before.

“
Edward,” she sighed against his lips as he withdrew his tongue.

His lips continued to mesh on top of and in between hers. “Regina.”

On their own accord, Regina's hands found their way to Edward's soft hair. She twirled her fingers into the silky strands, never wanting to let go.

“
Regina,” he panted, abruptly ending their kiss and moving backward. He pulled her off her seat and nearly on top of him just in time to keep her from hitting her head on an overhanging tree limb.