Page 60 of The Unwilling Bride
She toyed with the dark hairs around his nipple. “Yes.”
“Are you…are you not sore?”
She hadn’t stopped to think about it. “Well, yes, a little,” she confessed.
He levered himself up onto his elbow and looked at the sheets, which were smeared with blood from her lost maidenhead. He lay back down and studied the canopy again. “I think no more tonight, my lady, tempted though I may be.”
“Your wife is here, Merrick, not hovering somewhere over the bed,” she reminded him. “Or are there more important matters deserving of your attention at this time?”
He gave her a rueful smile—a new expression she’d never seen on his face before, and one that delighted her. “Forgive me. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve this happiness.”
“Yes, you do,” she said firmly. Then she had a moment’s doubt. “You are happy?”
His answer was another long and passionate kiss.
Smiling, Constance snuggled against him, sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m very happy, too, my lord.”
LONG AFTER CONSTANCE DRIFTED into blissful, sated sleep, Merrick lay guiltily awake, his beloved bride beside him.
He’d thought he loved Constance with all his heart before they wed. Yet now, having experienced the most exciting, blissful physical union of his life, he loved her even more.
That made his deceit even worse. By not being honest with her, he’d stolen something he could never return, and she could never recover. If she learned the truth, she’d surely think him a base, selfish and disgusting scoundrel, a man who’d tricked her into disgrace and dishonor.
She must never find out the truth. He had to be more on his guard now than he’d ever been, lest he betray himself. And lose his beloved forever.
WHEN CONSTANCE SLOWLY surfaced into consciousness the next morning, she immediately remembered she was married. Sighing and stretching, she reached for Merrick, ignoring the brief, sharp pain between her legs—a small price to pay for the glorious lovemaking she’d shared with him last night.
Her husband wasn’t in the bed.
She raised herself on her elbow and discovered that he was fully dressed and looking out the window. Wondering what he was doing, she wrapped the top sheet around her and started to get out of the bed.
He turned and gave her the ghost of a smile. “There’s no need for you to rise so early. Stay in bed and rest.”
There were dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks seemed drawn. Or maybe it was a trick of the early morning light. “Why don’t you come back to bed and rest with me?” she suggested. “You look tired.”
That brought a more natural smile to his face. “If I am, it’s because of you.”
“I’ll gladly tire you out some more. Or is there some pressing business that calls you from our bridal chamber? Did I not hear that you’d excused all but the most necessary watches and patrols today? A wise notion, my lord, considering that most of the men will be the worse for celebrating last night.” She patted the place beside her. “And you were so generous, many in the village will be the worse for celebrating, too. Surely there can be nothing vital to take you away from me this morning.”
He took a few tentative steps toward the bed. Her body warming as she thought of his kiss, his touch, she smiled enticingly and pulled the sheet slowly from her breasts. “Take off your clothes, my lord, and come back to bed.”
He hesitated, and a look of doubt crossed his dark features.
“If you fear to hurt me again, I could pleasure you as I did that other day,” she proposed.
With a low moan he scrambled onto the bed, grabbing her and pushing her back onto the coverlet. She eagerly welcomed his embrace, laughing and kissing him at the same time. “I know you’re a conscientious overlord, but is not leaving your bride at first light too extreme?” she said before he covered his mouth with hers for another passionate kiss.
“I try to be conscientious in all things,” he said, his voice low and seductive as his hand moved down her belly.
She laughed again. “Sit up a moment, my lord.”
“Why?” he murmured, nuzzling her neck, which sent the most delicious shivers through her body.
“Because you’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Ah.”
He sat back on his heels and allowed her to lift his tunic and tug it over his head. Then his shirt followed and she ran her hands over his chest. “Lie down, my lord,” she commanded.
