“I daresay a man is allowed to dream of his newly betrothed.” A pleasant shiver ran up my back, and my lips parted as I stared up at him. He was trying to unnerve me, clearly. We were playing a game, another in this long string of competitions between us. And yet, the way my hand pressed against the thin muslin of his shirt reminded me too much of our time in the mine. His warmth, his scent, his voice—they were all so vividly familiar to me, in a way no man’s ever had been before.
