Inconveniently Wed. Yvonne Lindsay
That maybe she should have waited and listened before reacting. But then, given her own family situation, and her vehemence about never being in the same position as her mom, was it any surprise she’d reacted the way she had? Faced with the same situation, heaven forbid, wouldn’t she do the same again?
She looked up at Valentin and saw the lines of strain on his face.
“You must be worn-out, too. I remember you never were one for grand social occasions.”
“You remember correctly. Look, we have just over fourteen hours before we get to Rarotonga. We should get some sleep. Try to be fresh when we arrive at the Cook Islands.”
“Did you want to take the bed?” she offered. “I can sleep in the main cabin.”
“No, you take the bed. While you remember my discomfort with large social gatherings, I remember how you need to be comfortable to sleep.”
Imogene felt her cheeks color at his words and the images that rapidly filled her mind. Of the two of them in a narrow double bed doing anything but sleeping. Or when they did, and despite the intense heat of equatorial Africa, they curled so close together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. She’d grown used to sleeping with him so quickly after they’d met, and it had taken her months before she’d stopped reaching for him in the dark after she’d returned to New York.
She averted her gaze before she suggested something stupid, like sleeping together again. After all, they were married and had a common goal of creating a family together. But even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t ready to take that step. Not yet anyway.
“Thank you,” she finally managed. “Would you like to use the bathroom first?”
Valentin laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Us. We sound so damned civilized.”
She giggled. “Yes, we do. Surprising under the circumstances, when you think about it.”
“Shows we’re better people than we were before.” His eyes grew dark and serious. “I meant what I said back in that office, Imogene. Even more than the vows we exchanged. You won’t regret this.”
Imogene swallowed against the lump in her throat and gave him a small nod. She was beyond words, but she wasn’t beyond feeling, she discovered as he strode through to the well-appointed bathroom and closed the door behind him. After a few minutes she heard the shower begin to run. She groaned at the knowledge that he was naked, that water now coursed in strong rivulets over his body. A body she’d once known perhaps even better than her own. She slumped onto the bed and kicked off her shoes before tugging at the invisible side zipper on her gown. She stood again and let the gown drop to the floor before stepping out of it and picking it up again to gently fold it and lay it on an easy chair.
As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dressed in a white lace-covered bustier and matching panties, together with white lace garters and sheer white stockings, she looked the epitome of bridal innocence. She touched the top of her thighs where her skin was exposed and felt a shiver course through her. Looks were one thing, but the actuality was quite another. Her entire body was attuned to every sound she could make out from the bathroom and it responded to the visual effects that her mind so willingly supplied.
The water snapped off and the sound propelled her into action. She grabbed her carry-on case and yanked out the robe she’d packed in there earlier. Had it only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago. She shook out the robe and gasped when she saw a shower of rose petals fall from the folds. The only person who could have sabotaged her things was her mom—she was the one Imogene had wanted with her all morning. And despite the lack of romance in her own marriage and her trepidation about the way Imogene had approached this one, Caroline had attempted to inject a little romance into her daughter’s day.
The door to the bathroom opened.
“You okay? I thought I heard you make a noise,” Valentin said, stepping through the doorway with a white towel wrapped around his hips.
All rational thought fled. The perfect lines of his body could have been carved by Michelangelo, except she knew that if she touched him he wouldn’t feel like cold marble. No, his skin would be hot, pliable and highly responsive to her caress. Every feminine instinct in her body clamored to be reacquainted with him. Intimately.
“Are those rose petals?” he asked, snapping her out of the seductive trance that threatened to take over her weary mind.
He drew closer and Imogene quickly shoved her arms in the sleeves of the robe and dragged it closed at her waist.
“Don’t rush on my account,” Valentin teased, the gleam in his eyes showing his appreciation of her attire.
“I’m sorry, I’ll clean them up. Mom must have—”
“Hey, don’t panic. It’s okay.” He reached out a steadying hand to her and clasped her forearm before she could bend down. “Relax, okay? I think a few rose petals are only to be expected with a bride and groom aboard, don’t you?”
Heat flared along her arm. Heat that tantalized and teased her already overwrought senses. Imogene pressed her lips together before answering, “But we’re not your typical bride and groom, are we?”
“We never were typical,” he agreed.
His words sent another rush of color to her cheeks. She groaned inwardly. Why did she continually blush around him? No one else had ever had the capacity to wring that kind of reaction from her before. She gestured to his towel.
“Are you planning to sleep in that?”
“It might give our cabin crew a bit of a shock if I did. No, I have some pajamas in my case. When you go to the bathroom I’ll change in here, if that’s okay.”
Ah, so they were back to being polite again. That suited her just fine. Right now she didn’t know what to think or say or do. All she knew was that she needed to create a bit of space between herself and Valentin before she did something stupid, like press her lips to the small brown discs of his nipples, or lick off that tiny droplet of water that followed the indentation of his abdomen.
“I’ll say good-night now, then,” she said stiffly and gathered up her toilet bag.
“Good night, Imogene,” Valentin replied.
His voice was gentle and deep and almost her undoing. It would take only a second to lift her face to his. To claim a good-night kiss. But if she did, she knew exactly where that would lead and she knew she definitely wasn’t ready for the ramifications of what would follow. Not mentally. Not yet.
Valentin looked out the aircraft window at the glorious coastline that appeared beneath them. Turquoise waters edged by foaming waves crashed against a reef that appeared to encircle the island they were approaching. As the plane drew lower still, he could make out white-sand beaches and towering palm trees that waved their fronds in the onshore breeze.
“Look at that,” he said to Imogene, gesturing outside.
“It’s beautiful,” she answered, leaning across him to get a better look. “And it’s certainly not like the New York winter we’ve left behind. Still, I guess, being in the southern hemisphere, it’s summer down here, right?”
He grunted in response, barely able to speak right now. Did she know her breast was pressed against his arm, he wondered, or realize what her closeness was doing to him? How her subtle fragrance invaded his mind and made him think all kinds of inappropriate things he’d rather be doing with her right now? Her very nearness was going to be a major test of his ability to practice abstinence while they worked toward understanding each other better. It was something they were going to need to discuss very soon or he’d go crazy.
He moved slightly and Imogene immediately pulled away.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
She fiddled with her