“After all, no one had lit a cigar in the house since 1823. Letting out an exasperated breath, he turned to Clementine. He couldn’t believe she had covered her entire mouth with both hands when he tried to kiss her. He had checked his breath. It wasn’t that. Hell, he’d strategically eaten a piece of candy and given her one for a reason. Their wedding night was going to be rough. For both of them. He eyed her. She had already set aside her beaded reticule and lit her cheroot as if showcasing her ...every right. Depositing the extinguished match into the ash pan on the marble side table, she glanced around the Turkish-styled blue and gold room. The fullness of her chartreuse morning gown that emphasized generous hips that had nothing to do with her corset, followed her sweeping movements. She regally seated herself in one of the cane chairs directly before him, holding up the lit cheroot between two bare fingers. “The poor ash pan on the side table doesn’t even appear to have been used.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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