Chapter 6
Six
Nancy ought to have been outraged as Jeremy carried her straight to the carriage and stepped inside the moment the driver opened the door, never once loosening his hold.
He settled back against the cushioned seat with her still in his arms, one leg braced to steady them as the door shut and the carriage lurched into motion moments later.
Ah yes, she ought to be furious. Wholly, unequivocally outraged.
Instead, she was entirely too conscious of the uncompromising strength of the arm banded around her and the way the carriage seemed suddenly too small to contain them both.
This close, he smelled faintly of sweat, not unpleasant, but suggestive of speed and heat and a man who had not paused to consider any consequences.
The awareness sent her pulse skittering.
She leaned closer and inhaled his scent.
Oh, her foolish heart. Why did she have to fall for this clueless rogue?
“Nancy.”
She started at her name, the memory of what he had done catching fire once more.
Her pulse was everywhere—at her throat, her wrists, the place where his arm held her fast as though she might float away if he loosened his grip.
Pushing against his chest to provide some distance between their chests, Nancy glared at her friend.
“You do realize you’ve ruined me, do you not?
This,” the words tumbling faster now, “is not gallantry. It is abduction. In full view of half the town! Pippa will never let me hear the end of it. And was that my brother I saw on my way out? How could he allow this to happen?”
Her eyes narrowed when he didn’t respond to her rant. “You had better have a truly extraordinary explanation.”
“I do.”
Hah! “Let’s hear it then.”
“I love you.”
At first, Nancy thought she’d misheard. But staring into his earnest eyes, spotting the affection in them, the determination, she paused. “Right. As friends.”
He shook his head. “No, as a man loves a woman who is his wife, his lover, his best friend.”
Had he gone mad? Should they head straight for Bedlam? “You expect me to believe you’ve suddenly changed your mind?”
His brows furrowed. “Changed my mind?”
Nancy let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Do you know how that made me feel when you brushed me off after I bared my heart to you?”
“Nancy, I was so foxed at Pippa’s wedding that I can’t remember half of it. I do recall some portion of your confession, well, one line, to be exact, but up until now I thought the moment to be a dream. I can’t recall anything other than that.”
Nancy’s breath caught. Had he been that foxed? Honestly, she hadn’t noticed. Jeremy was the kind of drunk who looked sober when inebriated and when sober, did drunken things. This moment, case in point! “What do you remember?”
His eyes bore into hers. “I’m in love with you, Jeremy Locke.”
Oh, Lord.
“I still can’t believe it’s true,” he added softly.
Her whole body became weak, but she forced herself to stay strong. “So? You remember? And, what? You suddenly love me now? Now that I’ve chosen to move on? What about before?”
“I’ve loved you since the first time we met, Nancy.” He shut his eyes before opening them again, a kind of torment flashing in their depths. His arms tightened around her. “I’ve been such a thick-skulled fool for not realizing the intensity of my feelings sooner.”
Nancy hesitated to believe him. Could this moment be real? She’d been waiting for this for what seemed like forever, but she didn’t want to be burned again. “When did you realize it?”
He sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Perhaps from Pippa’s wedding. Perhaps from the moment those dreams began. Perhaps when you kissed me.” He shook his head. “All I know is that I curse myself for failing you in such a crucial moment.”
Nancy suddenly laughed, her heart growing lighter than any feather in the world. Was this a dream? “There is no such thing as failing between us, Jeremy Locke.”
He let out a long breath, then grinned. “Good. Because you have unleashed a rogue in me, Nancy. And I can’t hold back any longer.”
“What do you—?”
Before she could even finish the question, his hand came up, cupping her face as his thumb slid beneath her chin, tipping her mouth to his, right before his lips captured hers.
Christ, she tasted like sin.
Jeremy had never known this kind of want.
His arm tightened around her, his whole body igniting in desire as she returned his kiss, her tongue boldly dancing with his.
The carriage rocked beneath them, the space suddenly thick with her closeness, her heat, her scent, and it drove him half-mad.
The moment he gave in, there was no reasoning with his heart. No pause. No restraint left to summon.
He’d been such a damn fool. Such a damn dull-witted idiot. Fortunately, he hadn’t been too late. Thank God, he hadn’t ruined his chance.
Her arms circled his neck, pressing her even closer against him.
Christ. This feeling . . . He could live in this position for the rest of his life.
She made a soft sound against his mouth, and something savage stirred in him.
He breathed her in with a hunger he no longer bothered to disguise, driven by years of idiocy burning off all at once, sliding the hand cupping her face to the curve of her throat, his fingers tightening just enough to feel the wild flutter of her pulse beneath his palm.
His other hand slid lower, finding the curve of her waist, then the generous swell of her hip, where he spread his fingers and greedily drew her closer. If he could imprint her into his very bones, he would. She fit there as though she had been made for him.
She groaned, retreating just enough to rasp, “We’re in a carriage, Jeremy.”
“The perfect place to be?”
Her breath of laughter met his lips. “You really . . . How did I miss you being such a rogue, rogue.”
“Rogue, rogue?” His fingers flexed, kneading the flesh of her waist, once, twice. “What do you mean rogue, rogue?”
“Well, you were a loving one before now,” Nancy said, lips deliciously swollen, her eyes bright with something which made his chest ache fiercely.
I did that.
“I can be all sorts of rogues, love.” Not just a lovable one. God, anything but a lovable one.
Her eyes turned fierce. “Say it again. Say you love me.”
“Does it count,” he murmured, brushing his thumb idly beneath her jaw, “if you command me to say I love you?”
“It always counts.”
He let his hand, enveloping her the column of her throat, slide, to rest over her heart. “I love you, Nancy Bathsheba Byrne.”
Something sharp and satisfied curled through him at the words. Absurdly so. As though saying them aloud had flipped a switch to his cock—ahem—he hadn’t known existed. Christ. He was going to enjoy this far too much.
“Urgh! Stop saying my middle name!” she groaned. “You swore you would never use it against me.”
He grinned, wholly unrepentant. “Love, this is not using it against you. It’s me including it in my love.”
Her glare wavered.
Just a little.
“Fine.” She caught his face in her hands. “I love you, too, Jeremy Locke. And you are never allowed to forget that again.”
His lips brushed hers. “I didn’t forget, I just transformed the memory into a dream.”
A snort. “Well, you’re not allowed to do that either.”
“Whatever you say.”
Her eyes narrowed. “By the by, where are we going?”
How would she react? “Gretna.”
Her eyes flew wide. “We’re elopo—”
He collected her sentence with his tongue. Yes, they were eloping. He certainly wasn’t going to give fate a chance to intervene in any way. Jeremy wanted everything. And he wanted it sooner rather than later.
His mouth devoured hers without apology, grinding his hardness into her softness just enough to draw a breathless groan from her.
Damnation. This journey was going to be pure torture until he could properly claim her on their wedding night.
That did not mean they could not claim each other in every other way.
Rogue unleashed, indeed.