“I should have arranged for you to visit a dress maker.”
“I have a dress. The one I was wearing when we met. Will that do?”
“Of course.” He wanted to bring her close, kiss her mouth and tumble her on the bed. Her palpable tension kept him from moving.
“Then I’m good.” She slipped through the connecting door to her bedroom before he could stop her. Why did it feel like she took the closeness of the past week with her when she left?
His lady’s hand rested on Keil’s arm, like it had the night of their marriage, as they entered the reception area. She’d felt closer then. Her grip tightened and then was gone, as she saw her father and hurried to greet him.
Was there desperation in the way his lady’s arms clung to her father? He followed her, waiting for the prolonged hug to end before hold
