Oh yeah, this doesn’t make you look like a jackass at all.
“Sorry about this, darling,” Ingrid said as she used the scissors to snip the left shoulder strap of Ruby’s dress, which miraculously stayed in place. “But trust me, it will make getting ready to go to sleep tonight so much easier.”
Ruby gulped audibly but didn’t make a noise of complaint.
Ingrid lifted the filigreed chain out of the box. “This is a hand-binding chain,” she said as she encircled first Ruby’s left wrist and then his right wrist so the chain formed a figure eight around their wrists. Then she clipped the lock closed and added a layer of warm wax around it that cooled almost instantly. “It’s an old but honored tradition on the island to test a young couple’s devotion to each other. If you can’t spend twenty-four hours together before the wedding, then you may want to rethink your commitment. One of the servants will deliver special binding clothing in the morning so you’ll be able to get dressed even when you’re bound to each other. I’ll remove the wax and unlock you after dinner tomorrow night. If you feel the need to have the binding undone before then, or if you break it yourself, then that will be a very bad omen for the marriage.”
Lucas stared down at the deceptively sturdy chain tying him to Ruby as both of his heads fought about whether it was the best or worst thing to have happened today.
Chapter Six
Ruby had thought going to the bathroom while Lucas had faced away from her and stood as far away as the chain wrapped around their wrists allowed was as bad as it was going to get that night. She was wrong. Lying under the duvet in the darkened room pretending to be asleep next to him was worse.
Hours after they’d turned in, there was no relief from the persistent vibrating hum of her body reacting to Lucas’s nearness. The accidental brush of his muscular calf against the side of her foot. The constant tingle dancing up her arm from the brush of the back of his chained hand against her knuckles. The low rumble of his breath that made her own lungs tight as his deep inhales dragged the thin sheet across her pebbled nipples. She’d never been more aware of every single part of her body than she was at that moment, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“Please stop making that noise,” Lucas said, his voice as smooth as warm honey.
> Everything but her heart froze. That particular organ went into overdrive as if someone had just jabbed her with a needle full of adrenaline. “What noise?”
Lucas rolled so he faced her, their chained wrists lying on the bed between them. The full moon sent just enough light through the bedroom window to highlight every one of the things about him she should be ignoring. The sheet had slipped down to his waist, giving her a clear view of the dusting of hair over his hard pecs and the happy trail that narrowed before disappearing under the covers. Her mouth went dry, and she jerked her gaze back up to his face. For once, not every dark hair on his head fell into perfect alignment. Instead, it was tousled and a shadow of scruff covered his normally clean-shaven jaw. His eyes glittered like aquamarine gemstones as he watched her with enough intensity to make her bite down hard on her bottom lip.
His body tensed. “That one, the one that sounds halfway between a sigh and a moan.”
“You’re hearing things.” She hadn’t made a noise. She would have realized. Okay, maybe she made a little huff sound, but only that last time. And it had been quiet, barely a whisper really. “I didn’t make any noises.”
He raised an inky eyebrow and smirked before propping his head up in his hand. The new position let him stare down on her and the look he gave her set a warm wave of desire rushing across her already primed body.
“Liar.”
He delivered the single-word challenge with enough seduction in his tone that it took a second to register.
“What did you call me?” she asked, slowly enunciating each word fully and grabbing hold of the much more acceptable emotion of annoyance to stop her from giving in to the half-dressed temptation that she was chained to.
“I could have just told you your pants were on fire.” He smirked. “However, you’re not wearing any.”
What a pompous, double-standard holding, blackmailing asshole. “I didn’t see you keeping yours on.”
No, he’d stripped off his pants without even giving her a warning to look away. It had taken an embarrassingly long moment for her to slap her free hand over her eyes to block out the sight of his thick, muscular thighs and high, round ass. Getting out of her silver dress had taken a bit more cooperation from him. After she’d struggled to get the zipper down, he pushed her hand away and lowered it for her. All of her attention focused on the bare brush of his fingers along her spine, the dress had slipped off, thanks to the snipped strap, before she could catch it. Putting on a nightgown or T-shirt was impossible while they were chained together unless she wanted half of it slung up on her shoulder. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other as they got into the bed, which had seemed so much bigger the last time she’d slept in it alone.
He shrugged one of his broad shoulders. “I get hot at night.”
“At least that makes up for how chilly you are during the day.”
Now that was a direct hit.
“You think I’m cold?” he asked, the heat in his eyes at the moment anything but.
Keeping a grip on the sheet so it wouldn’t inch downward, she rolled onto her side so she could deliver her next words face-to-face. “You’re an ice floe on the winter solstice.”
“Really?” The air sizzled between them as his gaze dipped down to her mouth and then traveled down her curves, burning a trail of fire across her skin as if the thin sheet wasn’t even there.
Ignoring the warning bells going off in her head, she brazened on. “As if you’re really shocked by that assessment.”
“That’s not how I’d describe what I’m feeling.” He shifted until he was close enough that the intoxicating heat coming off him washed over every inch of her. “Not even close.”
Her breath caught. She should roll over, turn away, stop wanting—despite her every instinct screaming at her to get away—for him to eliminate the small distance between them. But like a lust-drugged idiot, she tilted her chin upward so only millimeters separated their lips. The moan escaped before she realized she was making it.
Desire darkened his eyes to the deepest shade of ocean blue. “There’s that little sound of yours again.”