Page 34 of A Whisper of Desire
The sudden thought brought a rush of warmth to his loins. The one flaw in his plan to marry, and especially to marry a woman as beautiful and as sensual as Marisa, was her response in his bed.
Her passion was intoxicating. A hellion by day, and to his dismay, a hellion by night, he thought with a smile. His smiled dimmed. Why had he not thought his choice through? Like most men, he’d assumed a “lady” would be more subdued between his sheets than women in the profession. Marisa’s enthusiasm surprised him.
She’d actually initiated her deflowering and seared him with her demanding, untutored responses, so much so that tonight he’d used the age-old excuse of tiredness, grasping at a way to shore up his restraint. Just the memory of her skin beneath his was making him hard and throbbing.
He was about to push away from the window when the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He turned slowly, and the woman who haunted his thoughts was standing there in another silken garment that sent his blood rushing south.
She slipped the garment from her shoulders and it slid down her body to pool at her feet. His eyes feasted on her nakedness, and it was only his years of self-denial that ensured his feet did not take a step closer.
With her head held high, she moved closer. “I want to talk, and even if we don’t—make love—I want to share your bed tonight and every night,” she added in a rush.
“We can’t always get what we want; you of all people should know that. I suggest you turn around and go back to your room.”
“Why, you’re still awake.” She looked down his body to where his robe displayed the effect she had on him. “You appear to be very much awake. So much for being tired.”
To his horror, a smile that spoke of sex broke on her face.
“You vowed before God to obey me. Please go to your room, Marisa. We will discuss your behavior in the morning.”
She moved closer like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. “One thing you best learn. I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked in your bed—with you.” She all but purred. “In your bed I concede to your experience.”
God, she was glorious. How unfair was that? How was he to resist when faced with a hot-blooded woman who was unafraid to challenge him?
Without another word she turned away from him and walked to his bed, sliding beneath the sheets while he stood moot and aroused.
“I will accede to your wishes and not ask to discuss the plan to bring down Angelo for the rest of what is left of the night, but I will be sleeping in this bed.” She smiled seductively and drew down the sheet, exposing her breasts. “At the moment, I’m not very sleepy.”
“Unfortunately, I’m very tired,” he uttered, as he scooped her negligee from the floor while trying not to feast on her breasts. He moved to the other side of his bed, as far away from temptation as possible. He stood undecided, his body screaming for him to get in the bed and take her, while his brain was calmly explaining how his self-control was hanging on a cliff by a strand of cotton.
Before he’d married he’d decided on a conjugal schedule. Relations once every third night was permissible. He should be able to keep his urges satisfied while maintaining a sense of propriety. To his dismay he’d never considered his young, proper, inexperienced wife would initiate sex or demand to sleep in his bed. He was in a decided pickle, the irony of which was that most men would give their last breath to be in his position. But long ago, having seen the blood that flowed in his veins, he understood that he was not most men.
He was his father’s son.
He tried to forget the incident in the barn when he was sixteen but never could for long. He suppressed the memories and focused on his current situation.
He dropped the flimsy silk garment on her exposed breasts and saw the first sign of insecurity flash across her beautiful face. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Marisa, but it would be best if you went back to your own suite.”
“You really want me to leave?”
He hated himself. He could see her eyes begin to well with tears. He ran a finger down her cheek. “I really am tired, my sweet.”
“Then I’ll simply sleep here, with you.”
“You know if you stay in this bed we are unlikely to sleep.”
Her smile was back. “So youdodesire me.”
Too much.That was the problem. “You’re a beautiful woman.”
“Beatrice shares Sebastian’s bed every night.”
Ah, now he understood. She was comparing their marriage to that of her brother’s.
“No one knows what goes on behind couples’ closed doors. Couples behave differently, depending on the basis of their relationship. Unlike Sebastian, I prefer to sleep alone.”
At the word “alone,” more tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “I want to be a good wife, but I don’t know what you want from me.”
He scooped her into his arms and began to carry her back to her room. “We have only been married for a little under two days. It will take time for each of us to settle into married life. Give me time. I’ve not had a wife before.”
