Page 81 of The Danger of Desire
His grin faded. “Mine did not.” He added hastily, “I realize the décor is probably too old-fashioned for you, since this was my mother’s room before she embraced the Methodist faith and began sleeping in a smaller, more sober one, and I’m fine with your altering it to suit your own tastes. Indeed, you may wish to make other changes to—”
“Warren,” she said, to halt his flow of words. “Just because your parents slept separately doesn’t meanwehave to.”
He stiffened. “No, but I prefer to do so.” When he saw the hurt look on her face, he softened his tone. “I promise, you won’t actuallywantto sleep in the same bed with me. I don’t... rest well most nights, which is why I wander.”
“You mean because of the nightmares.”
His jaw tightened. “Partly. And I talk in my sleep. Among other things.”
“So does Brilliana, and I’ve shared a bed with her in inns without a problem. Trust me, it won’t bother me in the—”
“It will botherme,” he said in a voice that brooked no refusal. “So I shall sleep alone, as I always do.”
Another lordly pronouncement she was supposed to simply accept without question. Fine. She didn’t wish to get into an argument with him on their wedding night.
Still, that didn’t mean she would forget about it. Having witnessed one of his disturbing nightmares and hearing that he’d had others, she wondered how much his wandering had to do with them. One way or the other, she intended to get to the bottom of that—and figure out how she could help him sleep more easily.
But not tonight.
“Whatever you wish.” It was easy to speak the lie. To choose to wait until he trusted her more with his heart.
His heart? Lord, she was in trouble if she thought she could ever capture it.
“Whatever I wish, eh?” His mood lightened as he approached. “And what if I wish to see you naked?” With eyes gleaming, he drew her up off the bed and into his arms. “Will you permit me to play lady’s maid now? Or are you too tired, still?”
“I assure you I’m quite thoroughly awake.” She looped her arms about his neck and gave him a quick kiss, which he turned into a longer, hotter one.
Then he began to undress her... slowly, achingly, punctuating every motion with kisses and caresses. Her heart hammered harder with every piece of clothing he whisked away. There was something very unnerving about having him bare her completely. Especially when he was fully dressed.
So she halted him after he’d removed all but her shift and her drawers. “I want to see you, too,” she whispered. “Let me play valet for you.”
He sucked in a harsh breath. “Your wish is my command, wife.”
She had a cursory knowledge of how all the pieces of clothing went together, but after removing his coat and waistcoat, she had some trouble undoing his cravat, which seemed to be tied in an unnecessarily complicated knot.
“Want some help?” he asked in a throaty murmur.
She gave a tight nod. When he laughed and obliged her by removing the pesky strip of cloth, she muttered, “Now I see why you have a valet. No one could ever do so extravagant a knot on their own.”
He gestured to her elaborate coiffure. “I could say the same about your hair. Take it down, dearling. I’m sure I’d snarl it in the attempt.”
As she let it fall and turned to place her hairpins on the dressing table, he came up behind her to fill his hands with her curls. “Ah, how lovely it is.” He caught a lock of it up to his lips and kissed it. “I knew it would be as luscious as the rest of you.”
She caught her breath at the compliment. “It’s very hard to... manage.”
“Rather like its owner. And I enjoy all that glorious unmanageability.” Sweeping the mass aside so he could kiss her neck, he murmured, “Time to remove the rest of your clothes, dearling.”
She faced him. “You first.”
He arched an eyebrow. “For a woman reckless enough to gamble in the stews, you certainly are shy.”
“Not shy,” she lied, reluctant to admit her real fear. That once he saw her naked, he’d regret marrying her. She tugged at his shirt collar. “I’m just eager to see what I bartered my freedom to gain.”
“So that’s it, is it?” His gaze boring into her, he stripped off his shirt.
At her first glimpse of his fully bared chest, she could hardly breathe. Spreading her hands over it, she whispered, “For a man who spends all his time in the stews, you are quite... muscular.”
His throat moved convulsively. “I do ride, you know. And fence. And—” That ended in a groan when she ran her thumbs over his nipples.
