“My dressing room is more than adequate.” She smiled, anticipating his surprise. “Take that door next.”
He did as she suggested, then stopped dead in his tracks. “Good God, a Roman bathhouse! This certainly wasn’t here before.”
“Space was taken from the countess’s dressing room for this bath and a water closet through that door,” Sarah explained. “According to Hector, several years after your mother died, your father had a mistress with extravagant tastes. She persuaded him to put in Egyptian style furniture and this bathroom before he tired of her.”
“If she liked carved crocodiles, I’m not surprised she didn’t last long.” A tank was suspended above one end of the tub. He held his hand up near it. “Hot water?”
“There’s a boiler in a little closet between the bathroom and the corridor, so servants can keep the water warm without disturbing us,” she said.
Rob slanted a glance at her. “This could be . . . enjoyable. Shall we move on to your rooms?”
When she nodded, he opened the door to her dressing room and crossed through into her bedroom, his warm hand still clasping hers. He looked intensely—and provocatively—masculine against the serene, very feminine ivory and rose tones. “Well done, Sarah!” He smiled down at her. “The colors and furnishings suit you. A perfect English rose in her bower.”
The warmth of his gaze made her pulse accelerate. “If you’re hungry, there’s food and drink on the table by the window,” she said a little nervously. “The servants didn’t want us to have to emerge for a day or two.”
Laughing, he pulled her closer. “I like that idea.” He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth warm and firm.
She melted into his kiss, tongues touching as they breathed each other’s air. Finally the wedding ceremony and formalities were behind them and they were alone as husband and wife.
She was so absorbed in their kissing that she was scarcely aware of what he was doing with his hands until her hair tumbled loose. He slid his fingers into the falling locks and kneaded her head and neck with strong, sure fingertips. “Let’s not summon your maid,” he murmured as he deftly unfastened the back of her gown.
As he moved behind her and began unlacing her stays, she said rather breathlessly, “You’re really good at this. Should I be concerned at your skill?”
He bent to kiss her throat through the golden fall of her hair. “If you’re wondering if I’m a seasoned rake, the answer is no,” he replied. “But I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you.”
“Really? You didn’t show any sign of that,” she said with interest.
“I was supposed to be rescuing you, not ravishing you. Even with my best intentions, you’ll notice that desire didn’t stay entirely under control.” He finished unlacing the stays and lifted them away, leaving her in her shift and slippers.
“I noticed.” She kicked off the dainty slippers and was immediately two inches shorter. “Give me a few minutes to change and I’ll meet you back here.”
“I can help remove your shift,” he offered, his eyes glinting as he ran his hands down her arms from shoulder to elbow.
She laughed. “Behave! I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She scooped up the duchess gown and her stays, then skipped into her dressing room. Leaving the gown on the floor would have seemed disrespectful.
She swiftly hung the gown, then stripped and donned the beautiful rose-colored muslin nightgown Mariah had given her. It was extremely helpful to have a sister who was a generous and well-dressed duchess.
The nightgown was full, long sleeved, and modest, but the color was flattering and the fabric flowed beautifully when she moved. She brushed her tangled hair down over her shoulders and dabbed on the night version of Kiri’s perfume. It had a sweet floral innocence, but underneath was rich, sultry promise.
A quick look in the mirror confirmed that she looked as a bride should look on her wedding night. Nervous, of course, but that was natural.
She took a deep breath, then returned to her bedroom. Rob stood gazing out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
He’d changed into a magnificent banyan made of burgundy silk and embroidered with Oriental motifs in shades of blue and black. The garment was exotic and beautiful, and made Rob seem an intriguing and possibly dangerous stranger. Rather like the man she’d described to her friend Lady Kiri one day when they talked about ideal mates.
Then he turned with a smile and was her friend again. “I acquired this rather spectacular robe when I lived in India. They are experts in luxury. And you, my exquisite bride, look like the most luxurious female on the planet.”
Before she recognized his intent, he swept her up in his arms and laid her in the middle of her canopied bed as gently as if she were porcelain. “Ah, Sarah, Sarah. Princess.” He came down beside her, his arm around her waist as he leaned in. “You are so beautiful,” he said huskily. “So exquisitely beautiful . . .”
This time his mouth was hot and hungry. Searing. She could feel the heat rising in her body, pooling with liquid intensity in unnamed places.
At first she enjoyed the intoxication of his kiss, the heat and desire that called forth the same in her. Then he shifted to kiss her ear so that his torso was over hers. Even though he kept most of his weight off her, she had a sudden, frantic feeling of being trapped. She gasped and shoved instinctively on his shoulders.
He instantly rolled away onto his back, breathing hard and fists clenched. After a few moments, he said, “I’m sorry. I . . . seem to frighten you, and it’s not the first time today that’s happened. Do you . . . not want to be married to me?”
“No!” She scrambled up to a sitting position against the pillow-piled backboard. “If anyone should be apologizing, Rob, it’s me. I have no reason at all to fear you—you’ve been unbelievably kind and patient. But . . . you’re so large! Large and strong. And—I’m not.”
He sat up and leaned back against one of the massive posts at the foot of the bed, facing her. His breathing was quick, but his face was controlled as he stretched his legs out beside her. His feet were large, in proportion to the rest of him. What had she once overheard about the size of feet reflecting the size of... ? Blushing, she looked away.
“I can’t do much about my height,” he said wryly. “I’m very aware of how petite you are. Not weak. Your strength and endurance are admirable. But you’re so small and lovely that you look like you should be on a pedestal with a sign saying ‘Look but don’t touch.’ Unfortunately, I have a powerful desire to touch.”
“I’m not at all fragile. Remember that I was the very devil of a tomboy with my cousins.” She frowned as she tried to analyze her reaction. “For a moment I felt trapped, but I’m not afraid of you, Rob.”
“That’s something,” he murmured. “Was I moving too fast for you?”
“A little.” She made a face. “But I must admit that I keep thinking that every one of our guests knows what we’re doing in here. It’s embarrassing.”
“At least this isn’t a royal marriage of the past when half the court crowded into the marital bedroom. It would take a strong man to perform under those circumstances!” he said feelingly. “But you’re right that assumptions are made about wedding nights.”
She grimaced at his mention of public consummations in the past. “Maybe I was meant to be a spinster,” she said gloomily.
Rob became very still. “If you truly don’t want to be my wife, the marriage could be annulled. It would be messy and complicated, but I’m sure it could be done as long as the marriage hasn’t been consummated.”
She shuddered as she thought of all the people who’d come to celebrate their wedding. Virtually everyone on the large Kellington estate and a goodly number of friends and family as well. An annulment would be a devastatingly public slap in the face for Rob, who had done nothing, nothing, to deserve that from her.
On the contrary, he’d given her—everything. “I most certainly do not want an annulment! It’s time I ma
rried, and you’re the only man I can imagine being married to.” She shoved her hair back out of her face with an impatient hand. “I didn’t expect to feel this skittish, though. I’m generally fairly sensible.”
“I like that about you.” He drew up one leg and casually rested his arm on it, a picture of sumptuously garbed relaxation. “If you were in love with me, you’d be less skittish. Though we’ve shared some interesting adventures, we haven’t really known each other that long.”
In a flash of intuition, she recognized that he wasn’t relaxed at all, just very good at masking his tension. Her heart twisted when she remembered the shining certainty on Mariah’s face when she went to Adam as his bride.
There had been equal certainty in Adam’s eyes, and a kind of awe at his good fortune. So very different from Sarah and Rob.
Her jaw hardened. She’d taken vows before God and man just hours earlier. She couldn’t walk away. She didn’t want to walk away. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Many couples marry without being in love and the marriage works out very well. We—or rather I—just need a bit of time to sort this out.”
“Every marriage is unique,” he said thoughtfully. “We can deal with each other any way we wish. The consummation needn’t be tonight. We can wait until we don’t have two hundred people outside speculating about what we’re doing.”
“And until my nerves are in better order,” she said gratefully. “I’m so tired and frayed. It’s not late now, but it has been a very long day.” She covered a yawn. “I truly appreciate how tolerant you’re being, Rob. You’re a saint.”
“Not even close to sainthood, princess,” he said, a glint in his eyes. “But I’m tired, also. Too many hours of being on my best behavior. It’s good to relax with you. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“I’m not hungry, but a glass of white wine would be pleasant.”
He swung from the bed, lit a pair of lamps against the encroaching darkness, then poured them both wine. She loved watching his smooth, efficient movements. He was like a sleek thoroughbred.
He returned to the bed and handed her one of the goblets, then clinked his glass to hers. “To my very beautiful bride.”
She smiled and returned the clink. “And to my very handsome and amazingly patient new husband.”
He sat against the bedpost again, one foot on the floor and the other leg bent underneath him. His aquamarine eyes were clear as water and his brown hair was tousled. She had a desire to tousle it further, but for the moment he was out of reach.
No, he wasn’t the one out of reach. She was the one putting distance between them. And the sooner she closed that distance, the better.
Chapter 35
Rob gazed at Sarah as she absently sipped her wine. He loved watching her like this, with her marvelous blond hair falling free and the demure rose-colored nightgown, which was not as opaque as she probably thought it was.
“You said you wanted to kiss me from the first time you saw me,” she remarked. “I thought you considered me fluffy and helpless.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But that didn’t mean you weren’t powerfully attractive. Though I couldn’t allow myself such thoughts.” Only now did he realize just how much he’d been suppressing his desire. Now he didn’t have to, which was good, because he no longer could. He wanted her in the most primitive male way, a fever in the blood that cried, “MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE!!!”
“Do you have the same reaction to Mariah?” she asked, irresistibly curious though she looked as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“No.” He hesitated. “It’s hard to explain. Since she looks like you, she’s very beautiful. But her essence is different. She lacks your Sarah-ness.”
She laughed and looked even more enchanting. “A very diplomatic answer.”
“It has the virtue of being true. I expect that Ashton would say something similar. That you’re beautiful, but you lack Mariah-ness.”
“What is the essence of a man or woman?” she mused. “The soul?”
“Perhaps. I just knew that you were very special as soon as I saw you.” He smiled a little. “Since I’m a lurker by training and preference, you wouldn’t have noticed me if I hadn’t come to rescue you.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” she said shyly. “The first time I saw you was at the wedding of Lady Kiri and Damian Mackenzie. You were lurking, but I thought you looked . . . interesting. I wanted to know you better.”
He felt absurdly pleased. “Really? I’ve never had a beautiful woman single me out in a crowd.”
“That you know of!” She grinned. “I wasn’t the only female noticing you, but I couldn’t just walk up and introduce myself.”
He wished that she had, but the time was all wrong then. He’d have been flattered, and amazed, and then walked away.
But now there was time, and she was his wife. Mine, mine, mine! He should have known that marriage wouldn’t be easy. Nothing in his life ever had been. They didn’t have the love match that made everything seem right, nor did they have one of those pragmatic unions where both parties knew it was their duty to copulate so they got on with it in a businesslike manner.
Instead, he and Sarah were caught somewhere in the middle between a love match and a practical marriage. Call it a marriage of friendship. He wasn’t quite sure what shape that should take, and neither was Sarah. He didn’t doubt that they’d work it out, but for the moment, the situation was awkward.
Sleep would help. “Shall I turn down the lamps so we can get some rest?”
She gave him a luminous smile. “That would be lovely.”
As he collected the wineglasses and set them aside, she said wistfully, “It’s rather sad to sleep alone on my wedding night.”
His brows arched. “It’s sensible to delay the consummation, but I do want to sleep with you tonight even if we don’t have a convenient haystack.”
“Oh, good!” While he turned off one lamp and dimmed the other, she swiftly braided her hair into a long blond rope. Then she slid under the covers and patted the space beside her invitingly.
He removed his banyan and folded it neatly over a chair. Since he didn’t want to unnerve Sarah more by adding male nakedness to male size, he didn’t remove the loose linen shirt and drawers underneath.
Then he climbed into bed beside his bride, who greeted him with a warm, sleepily trusting smile. She had a sweet and spicy female scent, enhanced by the exotic blend of her perfume. When he put an arm around her and she cuddled close, he wondered just how saintly he could manage to be.
Lying along Rob’s strong body, Sarah felt her tension and nerves dissolve away. Surely the delicious animal warmth of sharing a bed was one powerful reason to marry.
Without the pressure to consummate the marriage, the attraction she always felt for Rob began glowing through her. So when he murmured, “There are many pleasant things that can be done well short of consummation,” she made an agreeable sound.
He began gently caressing her, his fingers light and tantalizing. In the dimly lit night, with no spoken words, this was pure, uncomplicated pleasure. Her nightgown covered her from chin to ankles, so she felt quite decent. But the slow burn wherever he touched reminded her that muslin was very thin.
When his hand drifted down to cup her breast, she pressed closer. He began strumming her nipple with his thumb. Her eyes shot wide open as sensation flared through her. In the dim light, his strong features were caring and focused on her.
Hearing the change in her breathing, he murmured something wordless and soothing and transferred his attentions to her other breast. This time he bent to suck on her nipple. She gasped and her pelvis began moving involuntarily.
He recognized her body’s craving more clearly than she did, for his hand stroked down between her thighs. His touch was feather light, yet it invoked heat and moisture and greater cravings. Her breath roughened as her world narrowed down to his skillful ministrations and her increasingly intense
reaction.
She didn’t even realize that his hand had moved under her nightgown until she recognized that his wickedly skilled fingers were touching intimate flesh, slickly sliding deeper, deeper. When he began stroking a tiny nub that seemed to concentrate her whole being in one spot, she moaned and gripped him with biting nails. Fierce need twisted tighter and tighter . . .
. . . until she shattered into blazing fulfillment. She cried out as her world fragmented. Dimly she recognized an irrevocable change.
Physical pleasure vanished as a torrent of grief and fear and despair swept through her. She broke into wrenching sobs without knowing why.
Rob’s arms came around her and she clung to him as the one sure anchor in a broken world. He wrapped her close, stroking her head and back as she pressed against him, her tears saturating his shirt.
Gradually her sobs diminished. Softly Rob said, “I have absolutely no idea why that happened. Do you?”
She hiccupped and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown. “Now I really owe you an apology! I’m sorry, Rob. I don’t know why I fell to pieces.”
“If that was what lay beneath your skittishness, it’s powerful.” He slid his fingers into her hair, soothing her like a kitten. “Do you have any idea at all? I’d like to think that heartbroken tears won’t be a regular feature of our married life.”
She bit her lip, forcing herself to think about the terrible grief that had torn her heart. How could she feel so miserable when the kindest, most attractive man she’d ever known had given her such intense pleasure?
The answer flared with blistering clarity. “It’s because men leave!” she said raggedly. “They can’t be trusted to stay, and it hurts so much. The pain never, ever goes away.”
After a startled pause, Rob said, “This is about your father, isn’t it? He just up and left and didn’t return for over twenty years even though he loved your mother and you.”
She nodded. “I always knew that he’d walked out and that somewhere out there, he was alive and enjoying life and cared nothing for me. He had Mariah, after all. He says that he went to the nursery and picked her out at random, but he’s lying, I’m sure of it. She was always brighter and more attractive. So he took her and . . .” Her voice cracked. “He took her and left me.”
Sometimes a Rogue Page 26