Page 75 of The Defiant One
"You don't want me taking up your time, you don't want me in your life, you don't want me at all —"
"Stop right there. I do want you. And if I could predict the reaction I'd get, I'd take your hand right now and show you the physical evidence to prove it."
"You mean you don't need the aphrodisiac?"
"Men don't need aphrodisiacs."
She laughed, though he noticed her cheeks went suddenly bright with color.
Besides," he added, "I'm glad to see the last of that stuff."
"You're not going to try and get it back?"
"Get it back?" He shook his head. "No. I've decided I don't want it back. Its discovery was an accident, it was of little benefit to science, and the fact that I haven't able to duplicate it, let alone remember what went into it, would only have made me the subject of ridicule from the scientific community. Oh no, Celsie, I see things clearly now. It was the cause of nothing but trouble from the very first, and I'm well rid of the stuff."
"Or most of it, anyhow. There is still that vial in your pocket . . ."
"Ah yes, I'd forgotten about that."
"I haven't."
He glanced down at her, one brow raised. She blushed and looked away, though she moved her body so that his hand, which had been around her waist, slipped to the small of her back. She laid her head against his shoulder. Gently Andrew stroked the base of her spine through the sleek satin gown, then let his hand move out over the curve of her bottom.
She didn't move.
Only closer.
He turned her so that she was facing him, and gently holding her arms, looked down into her tired but smiling eyes. "Tell me, Celsie. Do you want your wedding present before or after what remains of our wedding night?"
"Ummm . . . that all depends on what the remains of our wedding night have to offer," she murmured, with a coy little blush.
"What would you like it to offer?"
"You —" the blush deepened and she looked up, searching his gaze — "but only if you're not too tired and eager to get to bed."
"I am tired and eager to get to bed, but I can assure you, madam, that once there, sleep will be the furthest thing from my mind."
"Is it the furthest thing from your mind, now?"
He smiled slowly. "Indeed."
She gave a breathless, self-conscious little laugh. "Listen to me! There must have been permanent aftereffects from that potion after all. I'm behaving like some sort of wanton."
"Are you?" He grinned. "Do explain."
She opened her mouth, shrugged, and began digging at a stone with her toe, her cheeks as bright as the sunrise. "I want to go to bed with you — as your wife. I want to consummate our marriage. I want to know you as a woman knows her man, not as a friend, not as an acquaintance, and certainly not as a partner in resentment." She quit worrying the pebble and instead started stroking Freckles's head, at a level with her knee. "I want all that, Andrew, but I'm embarrassed for wanting it, I'm not quite sure why I want it, and when all is said and done, well . . . well, I guess I'm just a little jittery."
He reached down, and ever so gently, lifted her chin with his finger so that she was forced to meet his gaze. He smiled, cradled her face in both hands, and tenderly stroked her flaming cheeks with his thumbs. "I know you're nervous. We don't have to consummate it tonight, Celsie. Or even tomorrow night. We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other."
As hard as it had been to say the words, as difficult as Andrew found the idea of waiting another hour — let alone another day — to get inside her body, he had expected her to be pleased that he was being so considerate. Instead, her brows came together and her eyes darkened with worry and hurt. "Are you saying you'd be content to wait a lifetime to consummate our marriage?"
"Hell, no."
"Good," she said, visibly relieved, "because I don't want to wait that long, either. In fact, I don't even want to wait until tomorrow night." She stood on tiptoe, put her lips to his ear, and whispered, "I want to do it now."
Her suggestion bypassed Andrew's brain and went straight to his genitals. He laughed, not quite believing what he'd just heard. "You do?"
"Yes." She went back down on her heels, her eyes glowing with coy shyness as she looked up at him through thick, tawny lashes and embraced his waist with her hands. She held his gaze. Let her hands slide downward. And now he felt her palming him through his breeches, testing his hardening bulge. "Now."
