The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3) by Sandra Sookoo Page A

whiskers at his jaw. “I would like to see this bargain sealed with a kiss.”
    “A kiss?” He drew back slightly. “That’s it?”
    “Well, yes.” She tilted her head and peeked into his face. “You see, it’s such a lovely gesture and I very much enjoy kissing. I haven’t had a beau in a long time, and even though I’m still in love with my dead fiancé and feel absolutely nothing for you, I think having one kiss from you would—”
    “Oh, for pity’s sake,” he muttered seconds before he laid a hand to her waist and covered her lips with his.
    Eloisa had the distinct impression of tumbling during the all-too-brief meeting of mouths. There wasn’t any passion behind it. She never brought her hands around from their position behind her and he didn’t press his body into hers, but the heat he imparted, the tingles that shot down her spine, the shivers of awareness that raced along her skin couldn’t be denied.
    Perhaps she felt a tiny bit of something for him after all. That something grew into a worry that knotted her stomach. I’ve failed Peter.
    All too soon he pulled away and merely stared at her with confusion on his face. “Well, then. I suppose the contract is sealed.” His voice held a hint of breathless wonder.
    “Yes, I suppose is it. Thank you for the celebration, small as it was.” She forced a swallow into her suddenly dry throat then patted her hair. It wouldn’t do to appear disheveled upon meeting the rest of her family. “I should go tell Helen and Charles the joyous news.” Without waiting for his agreement, she slipped around him and fled the parlor.
    This can never happen again. I’ll be pulled apart from guilt.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    It had been a week since Oliver had offered his proposal. As promised, the Darrington man-of-business had drawn up the contract and had delivered it to Oliver’s townhome with an arched eyebrow, even more so when Eloisa’s brother had signed his name. Oliver had then sent the man away with the promise not to break the news to his mother, for he’d do that soon anyway. Charles had left right after.
    Dear God. What would his mother say once he told her of his engagement or his alleged daughter? A chill moved down his spine. It had the potential to be terrifying, yet it had to be done to smooth over gossip and to free himself from his matchmaker mother.
    Which was how he came to be in the closed Darrington carriage with Eloisa on the bench across from him, headed to the capitol city. Finally, he’d sent off a response to his mother that said, yes, he’d be delighted to come up to London for the dinner party she’d decided to throw upon finding out he’d returned to England. He hadn’t mentioned Eloisa’s appearance in his life or their agreement. That he’d save for the perfect moment.
    Nothing could have been better, except he had the sense that something wasn’t quite right. Could it be because he didn’t have Daniela with him? It was the first time since she’d been dumped on his doorstep he hadn’t spent the day with her. His chest tightened. As impossible as it appeared, he missed the touch of her little hand or the pain in his backside when he accidentally sat upon one of her errant toys. Hmm, no, it couldn’t be just that.
    He moved his gaze to his temporary fiancée. The dark purple gown she wore made her ivory skin seem paler. The black lace around the bodice only added to the mourning effect and didn’t suit her at all. Not a trace of freckling marred the surface of her décolletage, and he was again reminded she probably hated the sunshine. She wore her vibrant, blonde-brown hair piled high on her head with a few straggling curls escaping to frame her face. A lace and flower confection rested at a jaunty angle on her head, which was currently turned in profile to him as she gazed at the passing countryside, but it was her lips, pulled down in a frown, that caught his attention and fired his thoughts.
    She’d said