Free Flawless by Carrie Lofty

wanted a confidant, apparently, but he wanted her skin beneath his hands. A fair trade. “But now?”
    “What are we doing here?” For a moment he could almost believe she meant them. What were they doing? In truth, they’d been on the verge of an irreconcilable implosion since stepping up to the altar. “What if this is a placewhere we won’t ever be safe?” she asked, dispelling his fanciful notions. “What if these hard-working people have been utterly duped by tales of easy riches? I—”
    She swallowed and Miles dropped his hand. Even worse than fatigue, there was danger in her vulnerability. Any doubts would be shadowy mirrors of his own, and he didn’t like having that in common with Viv. He desired a much baser connection. Fighting for their lives had only exacerbated the hum and thump of need that shuddered through his body.
    This wasn’t what he’d planned. It certainly wasn’t why he’d traveled across the width and breadth of the Atlantic and weathered life in a hellish camp on the edge of war. Adventure aside, his goals remained as simple as a man could possibly manage. Earn the money. Bed his wife. And this time, be the first to leave.
    “Seems to me, Vivie, that you have two choices.” Miles dragged to his feet and dusted off his trousers. Viv flinched as the grit flew into her face. His only apology was a grin. “You can climb aboard one of these delightful coaches and discover what Kimberley holds in store for you, or you can say the word.”
    “Say . . . what , exactly ? ”
    “Say the word and we can go home.” A familiar meanness reinvigorated his sense of purpose. “You remember home, don’t you? The view of the park in spring bloom from our bedroom window? The sheets we tangled into knots on our wedding night? Oh, and I’m certain we can snag an invitation to the next gala Lord Saunders hosts.He enjoyed my company last time, I’m certain of it, and I enjoyed you.”
    Fire sparked across her expression. “At a time like this you decide to taunt me with that night? We could’ve died today!”
    “All the more reason to enjoy each other when the opportunity is presented.”
    He grabbed her hands before she could object and hauled her up. She steadied herself with both palms on his forearms. Her breasts brushed his chest, which was bare to the sternum. They stood so close that when Miles licked his lower lip, he tasted hers with the same quick sweep of tongue.
    She inhaled sharply. Perhaps she read the untamed hunger in his eyes because she pushed out of his arms.
    Miles tensed and hissed. “Good God, that hurts.”
    He’d expected more anger, or even the vulnerable fear that could wear away at him like the slow drip of water. Instead she’d replaced her protective mask, the one that said his comfort and teasing were equally unwelcome.
    “Then hold still while I finish, you fool. Shirt off.”
    With more economy than sensuality, she helped remove the battered garment. Thus was the moment when Viscount Bancroft stood bare-chested before his own wife in the middle of a desolate African plateau. He nearly shook his head at the dizzying wonder. Boredom had been his lifelong curse. Body alive—both pain and pleasure—and mind alight with sensual imaginings, he was anything but bored.
    He studied her as she wound bandages over his shoulderand around his collarbone. It was either that or succumb to the potent need gathering in his cock. She smelled of sweat and dust and Vivienne. He’d endured enough pretty detachment and polite façades to last ten lifetimes.
    This was real. And he loved every moment.
    She finished the dressing and stepped back, hands clasped at her stomach. Her expression, however, was not so demure. If he didn’t know better, Miles would’ve sworn that his prim, proud wife was drinking in the sight of his bare chest. Was it possible she would make this game so easy?
    Not a chance.
    “So,” he said, rolling his shoulder against the dressing. She’d tended him