Page 49 of Lady Tempts a Rogue

You dare to presume to tell me, the almighty sultan, how to govern my land? I remind you, each time the plague reached this sacred country, it was because of foreigners bringing the disease to our shores. My people cannot suffer another long season of quarantining and closed borders. It is in Allah’s hand who lives and dies. I leave it to His will.

~Sultan Moulay Suleiman, in response to the impudent petition from the foreign consuls

Trinity’s cabin

Early the next morning

24 October

Having been emersed in the loveliest dream, Trinity tried to shove her growing alertness away. She did not want to wake up. Even between restless bouts of fitful sleep, niggling away at the back of her consciousness was the knowledge that she’d married Devin.

She married a man she scarcely knew because when the Daunting Duchess reached Morocco, she would have been on her own if it weren't for Devin.

As she slowly let slumber slip away, she became aware of a firm body entwined with hers. Her head lay on Devin’s broad shoulder, one arm flung across his torso.

One of his arms held her to him, and his other hand cradled her hip.

Their entwined legs made it impossible to rise.

In truth, it was a rather pleasant way to awaken.

Opening her eyes, Trinity edged her chin upward to trace her gaze over his features. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw and chin, and those thick lashes she envied lay like lush fans atop well-defined cheeks.

Mouth parted, he snored gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

They both must’ve fallen asleep quickly.

A blessing that had saved her from humiliating herself by being sick in front of him.

The ship no longer rose and fell in undulating waves, nor did the dual sounds of the ocean beating against the hull as wind ravaged the vessel carry into the cabin.

What time was it?

“Good morning, wife.”

Devin gave her hip a slight caress, his voice a husky rasp.

Rather than take offense or call him to task for his forwardness, Trinity reveled in his touch and the tingling that radiated outward from where his hand cupped her hip.

She’d never denied her attraction to Devin, even if it had not been wise. Now that they were married…

“Good morning.”

Pushing herself onto her forearms, Trinity gazed down at him. In the low light, his face softened by sleep, his hair tousled, and his mouth curved into a drowsy half-smile, he appeared almost boyish. “I think the storm is over. How do you feel?”

Eyes slightly narrowed, he considered the question before a naughty grin twisted his mouth. “Very nice, thank you.”

Good heavens.

She practically lay prone atop him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, only her gown and his pantaloons between them.

“Yes, well…” She tried to leverage upward, but her skirts and his legs entrapped her. “A little help, please.”

He gripped her ribs, probably to lift her off him.

Instead, she dissolved into giggles.

“Are you ticklish?” Delight tempered Devin’s voice as he wiggled his fingers along her ribs, sending her into another fit of laughter.