“You hurt me, Paul,” she said in a small voice.
“I know, darling,” he soothed. “It couldn’t be helped.”
Her brow furrowed over that.
“It won’t hurt the next time.” He kissed her softly and stroked her cheek. “I promise.”
She nodded and laid her head on his chest once more. She curled her fingers in his chest hairs, driving him to distraction with each tiny movement.
“You’re so big, husband,” she said. “I… I never thought we would fit.”
Paul groaned as her innocently-spoken words caused him to harden at the memory of their joining. “We fit perfectly, wife.”
Michelle rubbed her palm over his chest and he swelled.
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re making me want you again, Michelle.”
She grinned then and pulled her hand out of his grasp. She lightly trailed her fingers over his stomach.
“Michelle,” he growled.
“I want you, Paul,” she whispered. Her hand found him and he grew against her palm. She came up to kiss jaw. “Do you want me?”
“Can’t you tell?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Take me, then,” she whispered in his ear.
He rolled over and pinned her beneath him. She opened her legs for him and he entered her with one smooth thrust. She gasped and he managed to stop himself.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked worriedly.
“No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “No.”
He moved again, slowly. When she arched toward him he let go, letting his climax take him. He shook with his release, bringing her with him as she cried out her own pleasure. Holding her closely as his breathing slowed, he looked deeply into her eyes.
“I love you, Michelle,” Paul said when he found his voice.
“And I love you,” she breathed.
* * * *
Paul awoke bright and early the next morning. He’d experienced the most wonderful night’s sleep, and felt refreshed. He sat up, jarring his wife’s sleeping form. Michelle groaned, picking up her head to peer at him through a curtain of tangled curls.
He grinned and placed a kiss on her tousled head. “Rise and shine, love.”
She snorted and laid her head back down.
He laughed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Not a morning person, I take it?”
She rolled over onto her back and brushed her hair out of her face. Opening her eyes once more, she regarded him closely. “It seems my husband kept me awake quite late last evening.”
He stood then, picked up his breeches and pulled them on. “If memory serves, wife, it was you who kept me up.”
Her mouth gaped open so he kissed her again. She sat up, groaning as she did so.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
She shrugged. “A bit.”
She pushed the sheets aside. She gasped as she looked down at herself and pulled the sheet back up.
Paul cocked his head to one side. “You’re not getting shy now, are you, love?”
“No,” she said, keeping her eyes downcast.
If she wasn’t feeling bashful, what made her so uncomfortable? Did she regret anything they’d shared last night?
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I bled,” she said.
His shoulders sagged with relief. He grasped her chin and tilted her head up, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “You were supposed to bleed.”
Michelle blinked up at him in disbelief. “I was supposed to bleed? What… what sort of nonsense is that?”
Paul hid his grin. “It’s perfectly natural, love.”
“Well, that’s simply the most uncivilized, backward—”
He kissed her to turn her attention. It worked. When he pulled back, she smiled up at him. He brushed her cheek with his hand and stood once more. “I’ll order a bath for you, if you’d like.”
“Oh, yes. A bath would be wonderful.”
He nodded to her and stepped behind the privacy screen to see to his morning toilette. When he emerged from his dressing room, he found his wife sitting at the vanity, running a brush through her red locks. He smiled at the pleasing picture she made. She’d donned the thin nightgown from last night, and he was damned if he didn’t feel the urge to take it off her. He crossed over to her and caught her eye in the oval mirror atop the vanity. Lifting her hair off her neck, he placed a kiss on her soft skin. When she shivered in response he held himself in check. He straightened and stepped away.
“I’ll see you in the breakfast room, Michelle.”
Paul left the chamber and ordered her bath. He entered his study and looked over the work he had planned for that day. He realized he’d be confined to his desk for a long while. He went into the breakfast room and poured himself a cup of tea, content to wait for his meal until his wife could join him.
* * * *
Michelle stood while the servants filled the large bathtub from steaming buckets of water. When they left her, she turned to her maid. “Betsy, I’ll call for you when I am ready to get dressed.”
Michelle closed the door behind Betsy and walked toward the tub. Lord, she was sore. She removed her nightgown and slowly lowered herself into the tub. The warm water eased her discomfort, much to her relief. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to what had happened between her and Paul last night. It was simply wonderful. He was simply wonderful. She could hardly wait to do it again!
The water cooled as she finished her bath, leaving her skin scented and rosy. She toweled off and rang for Betsy.
Michelle dressed and joined her husband in the breakfast room. Paul stood when she entered, his eyes glittering as they drank her in.
She’d chosen a day dress of sunny yellow and had Betsy leave much of her hair hanging in loose curls. Pleased her new husband found her to his liking, she smiled brightly at him and he crossed to her.
He took her hands in his and kissed her lightly. “You look delicious, love.”
Michelle laughed at his choice of words and followed him to the sideboard. They served themselves and sat at the table.
“Husband, what do you have planned for us on this fine morning?”
Paul frowned. “I’m afraid some matters need my attention.”
Michelle hid her disappointment. She’d hoped they could go for a ride together or at least a leisurely stroll.
“Will they take long?” she asked.
“Not very.”
She nodded and turned her attention back to her plate. They finished their meal and he showed her to the parlor, a lovely room full of morning sunshine. He left her to her correspondence and shut himself in his study.
She stared a hole in the closed door and let out a breath. “What keeps you so busy the day after our wedding, husband?”
Chapter 12
Michelle soon grew bored with her correspondence and thought to wander about the house. She found the parlor to her liking, if sparsely furnished. “With the proper furnishings it could be quite lovely.” She realized with a smile that her husband surely gave little attention to such matters. “Bachelor lodgings.” She laughed to herself. “Well, I shall take great pleasure in making the house a home for both of us.”
Returning to the desk, she began to make a list of fabrics and colors and pieces she’d like to see used in the room. She grabbed up a few more sheets of paper and went through the other rooms of the townhouse.
The dining room was elegant, a fact she acknowledged as easily in the light of the day as she had during their wedding dinner. “Starks obviously kept the staff busy polishing the silver,” she murmured. The china off which they’d dined last night was lovely, and the crystal glasses were very pretty too. “But how many place settings?” She’d need to speak with Starks. She was certain they would entertain often now they were married. She made another note to herself and left the dining room.
She located a love
ly little sitting room just off of the foyer. It was sparsely decorated, as was the parlor. It did have quite a few books on the shelves against one wall, however. It could serve as a sort of library. She placed her hands on her hips. “Perhaps I should have the furnishings from my room at Mother’s sent over to fill the space?” She walked over to a large empty space near the bookshelves. “Yes, my chaise would look lovely here. And the matching wing chair would be perfect for settling down to read.”
She added the information to her lists and left the room, bound for Paul’s study.
Michelle found the room easily enough, correctly assuming it was the one with the door closed tight. What could warrant his attention all morning long? She rapped lightly on the wood and waited for her husband’s response.
“Yes?” he said from behind the door.
“It’s me, Paul,” she answered. “May I come in?”
Paul was silent for a moment. “Certainly.”
She opened the door and found him at his desk. He smiled absently at her and returned his attention to the pile of papers in front of him. He gathered them and quickly stuffed them into a drawer.
“If you’re busy, I can leave you to your work,” she said.
“Nonsense, love.” He rose from his chair and came from behind his desk. “I’m never too busy for my wife,” he added, taking her hand in his.
His simply-spoken words pleased her to her toes. They shared a tender kiss. He brought her to one of the chairs facing his desk and bade her to sit. She did so, watching him as he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. He’d removed his jacket, and his silver-gray waistcoat made his shirt appear snowy white. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and her fingers itched to caress his strong forearms. She finally looked up at his face to find him watching her expectantly.
“W-what?” she stammered. “Did you say something?”
“I asked what those papers are in your hands,” he said.
Her brow furrowed. She recovered herself and waved the papers at him dismissively. “Oh, these are just some notes I made.”
“Notes? May I see them?”
“I admit I am curious to gain your opinion.” Michelle handed the papers to him. “Though apparently you never gave much care to such things.”
She watched as his eyes flicked over first one page then the next. His scowl took her by surprise.
“What is all this about?” he asked, his voice low.
She blinked. “I thought I could—”
“Do you find my home unsuitable?”
“What? No,” she answered. “I don’t understand your reaction, Paul. I simply wished to—”
Paul shoved the papers back into her hands, his eyes hard.
She looked at him in dismay. “I merely wrote down some ideas,” she said. “I do not see why you’re angry.”
“I am not angry!”
She frowned at him. “Don’t shout at me!” She stood and spun toward the door. “I thought to make our home more inviting, but I can see you think of it as yours and yours alone.”
“Michelle, wait.”
She took a step away from him. “Forgive me for my impertinence.”
“Michelle.”
When he caught her arm and gently turned her back to him, she glared up at him. “What do you want? I must see to my correspondence and apparently nothing else.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get angry with you.”
“You never do,” she muttered.
Reluctant laughter came from him. He sat her back down in the chair. “May I see your notes again?”
She hesitated for a moment before handing them over. He looked them over with true interest.
“Let’s see what you have here. You see the house in a softer, more appealing light,” he observed. “The fabric and colors… I think you have some pleasing notions here, wife.” He handed her back the sheets of paper. “I draw the line at redecorating our chamber, however.”
Michelle arched a brow at him. “Oh?” she teased. “You don’t wish to have rose brocade draped over your bed?”
He pulled her up out of the chair. “I only wish to have you draped over my bed.”
Her cheeks heated at what he suggested. He lowered his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss was gentle and meant to tease.
He pulled back and smiled at her. “Now what would you like to do this afternoon?”
She opened her mouth to answer him but a knock came on the door.
Paul sighed irritably. “Yes?”
“Lord and Lady Brockton to see you, My Lord,” Starks informed him.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Don’t you like them, Paul?” Michelle asked.
“What? Oh, yes,” he said. “I like them. Only I realize we’re going to be swamped with callers from now on.”
She placed her hands on her hips and quirked a half-smile at him. “And don’t you like having callers?”
“No one’s ever really called on me before, officially in any event,” he answered. “But now that we’re married, I suppose I will have to get used to it.”
“Oh,” she nodded. “Now I understand.”
He pulled her close to him. “And just what is it you understand, Michelle?”
“You don’t want to share me with anyone.”
“Damn right, I don’t.”
He sealed his declaration with a deep kiss. He released her and shrugged back into his jacket. “Come, wife. Let’s go to the parlor to meet our guests.”
* * * *
Lord and Lady Brockton were the first callers of many that morning. Paul hadn’t realized how popular his beautiful wife was. Quite a few ladies, and more gentlemen than Paul might have liked, called on the newlyweds that day. Just as it seemed the day would at last be theirs, Lady Helen arrived. Paul left the ladies then, taking the opportunity to finish his morning’s work.
He entered his study and closed the door. He picked up Michelle’s lists from the chair and thought back to his reaction. He winced. “Bloody hot-headed fool.”
He’d thought she found his home lacking and ill-suited to her. Shaking his head, he sat back down behind his desk and finished the speech he was currently writing.
Sometime later another knock came at the study door.
“Paul?” Michelle called. “May I come in?”
“Please,” he answered.
He was relieved to have an excuse to put his work aside. His brain ached from puzzling over one prickly subject after another. He favored his wife with a smile as she entered the room.
“Are you still working?” she asked.
“Um, no,” he lied. “I was reviewing my ledgers.”
She nodded and crossed over to the window. She gazed outside, a faraway expression on her face.
He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. “What are you thinking about, love?”
Michelle turned back to him. “Oh, I wonder if every day is going to be like this one.”
Paul heard the resignation in her voice. He smiled and patted his knee. “Come here, wife.” She did as he asked, settling herself in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Didn’t you enjoy our callers?”
She shrugged. “I would have preferred to spend the time alone with you.”
“That admission pleases me.” He placed a kiss on her silken hair and let out a breath. More than just her words pleased him.
She raised her head to look at him and suddenly blushed.
“Is something troubling you, Michelle?” he asked.
She obviously wanted to ask him something, but was embarrassed to bring up the topic. He could guess the subject and hid his smile.
“No,” she answered. “I wondered… Oh, never mind.”
“Wondered what, love?”
She looked him squarely in the eye then. “Paul, you said it wouldn’t hurt the next time and it did.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek
. “It was too soon. I tried to wait, but you were very insistent.”
She arched a brow at him. “I seem to recall you were in full agreement at the time.”
He chuckled over her statement.
She briefly returned his smile before a frown settled on her face once more. “Will it hurt again tonight?”
He thought for a moment. “It might. Would you rather we didn’t try?”
“No.”
Paul grinned. “Thank God.” He hugged her to him and settled back in the chair. The feel of his wife in his arms turned his thoughts to the coming evening.
“Ah, Michelle,” he said. “Tonight I’ll put my mouth on you and you’ll love it.”
She pulled back to stare at him. “But, you did put your mouth… Oh, my! You cannot mean to…”
He simply nodded and let her imagination work for a few moments.
“But,” she began, “that is not—”
“We’re married, Michelle. Anything we do with each other is perfectly all right.”
“Truly?” she asked in wonder.
He watched her as her mind worked. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what his wife was thinking.
“Can I put my mouth on you?” she asked.
Paul shuddered. He closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. “God, yes.”
She shifted in his lap and he held her hips to still her, already painfully aware of his arousal. She settled herself against his shoulder once more as he stroked her back and tried to block the image of her perfect mouth and what she proposed to do with it.
When Starks announced tea time he was almost relieved. Michelle stood and smoothed down her skirts. Paul followed her into the parlor where they shared a pot of tea.
“I propose we forego the usual rounds of parties tonight, love.”
“Perhaps you have the right of it,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Pray, tell me why?”
“I’m tired of sharing your company,” he told her. “Tonight I want your attention focused solely on me.”
The smile she gave him promised much of their quiet evening at home.
* * * *
Pride and Fire Page 10