Lisa Plumley - The Scoundrel

“You told me we’d finish things this morning,” Sarah said.

She looked expectant. Alert. And, he couldn’t seem to forget, possibly naked.

“This morning. Right.” Wondering what sort of finishing she expected of him, Daniel cleared his throat. He always had had a habit of putting off problems till they were nigh unsolvable, he admitted to himself. Look at his troubles with Eli. But this time, he knew he’d have to deal with Sarah straightaway. “This morning.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He didn’t know what to say. Or what to do. He and Sarah had an arrangement…didn’t they? A businesslike agreement. Perhaps she was simply feeling extraordinarily friendly. Her family was a famously freethinking one, after all. She probably thought nothing of hugging her sham husband. In the dark. While they were both—he felt compelled to remind himself—completely unclothed.

Silence fell. Clearly, peacefulness was more than Sarah could stand. “I’ll start, since we didn’t have much time to talk last night. As you can see, I found your gift.”

“Gift?”

“The nightgown.” Shyly, she bit her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t thank you properly for it when you came home. It’s beautiful.”

The heartfelt gratitude in her eyes was his undoing. Daniel didn’t have the will to argue. But the truth was, he hadn’t given her any… “Nightgown?”

Sarah nodded. In demonstration, she allowed him a peek beneath the quilt. He spied lace over creamy skin, feminine curves swathed in white and one long leg bent at the knee before he forced himself to close his eyes. The image of her still swam before him. It looked as if schoolmarming did a great deal for a woman’s…feminine assets.

Dry-mouthed, he opened his eyes again. He pointed. “It’s, uhhh, hitched up. Right there.”

“Here?”

She patted ineffectually at the wrong leg, doing nothing to end his view of her bare, curvy thigh. With any other woman, Daniel would have taken her movements for coquettishness, but this was Sarah. Sensible Sarah. She couldn’t possibly be trying to snare him with a forbidden glimpse of her thigh.

She’d already caught him in wedlock, hadn’t she? What more could a woman possibly want?

“Ahhh.” She stretched, arms overhead. She offered him a brazen smile. “I slept splendidly. I guess we wore ourselves out, didn’t we?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Agreeing with her wouldn’t quite put forward the no-nonsense marriage he’d hoped for. But despite that fact, Daniel couldn’t help preening a little. He was good at satisfying a woman—most likely due to his enjoyment of the task.

Enough of that. He needed to get to the bottom of things. “When I came home last night,” he said, “after you left here—”

“Oh, that,” Sarah interrupted hastily. “Yes, I figured you needed some time to prepare yourself. To freshen up for our wedding night.”

Freshen up? He arched his brow. For…?

“So I went to the other room to brush my hair, to give you some privacy. But by the time I got back…” Trailing off suggestively, she chuckled. “Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it? A proper wife keeps her husband’s secrets, and she keeps him warm at night, too.”

Hmmm. Maybe he hadn’t dreamed the feeling of her arms around him. What, exactly, had happened when she “got back”? For the life of him, Daniel could only remember stripping off his clothes, hastily washing, then collapsing on his bed, done in by the unusual events of the day.

“You clearly know more about being a good husband than you’ve let on, Daniel. I don’t know where you learned it, but I’m glad.” Looking contented, Sarah dragged the quilt over herself again. “A gift on our wedding night? So generous of you. I’ve never owned anything as beautiful as this nightgown.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt. He was an honest man, and Sarah deserved the truth. He needed to tell her he hadn’t given her that gown. But when she looked at him that way, all appreciative and sweet, he just couldn’t do it.

“It’s very lovely,” she said. “Isn’t it?”

It was. Especially on her. But it ought to have been in her own bed, along with the rest of her.

“It doesn’t look very warm,” he grumbled.

She smiled, her whole face shining with a mysterious sort of feminine wisdom. Likely she believed him to be teasing her, as usual. Daniel stewed.

He still couldn’t figure out why Sarah wasn’t across the hall where she was supposed to be. The question occupied most of his thoughts, leaving room for little else. Had he, in a whiskey-fueled bout of stupidity, invited her to sleep with him instead?

“Ahhh. I’ve just realized why you’re so grouchy this morning.” Sarah peered at him, apparently confirming her suspicions. “But you needn’t look so troubled. I understand about last night.” She offered him a gentle pat on his shoulder. “Mama warned me that some men have…difficulties when they’ve been imbibing.”

“Difficulties?” He all but choked on the word. She could only mean…no. That kind of talk absolutely couldn’t continue. “I never have difficulties.”

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