‘Sophia, should I tell him?’
‘About what, my lady?’
‘Martina.’
‘You will say she is yours?’
‘As we discussed, I had planned to say she is an orphan I have adopted. It is going to be impossible for me to hide the fact that there is a child in my entourage for long. A few moment ago he almost stumbled across her. I had hoped to wait until...later to tell him.’
‘I think it would be wise to wait, my lady,’ Sophia said, taking Theodora’s shawl from her and loosening her gown. ‘Please lift up your arms.’
Theodora raised her arms and spoke through the silk as it was eased over her head. ‘What if she cries?’
‘She will not cry, Jelena is with her. And if she does, the nursery is at the far end of the apartment. The door will remain closed all night.’
Sophia’s smile was reassuring, but Theodora was not reassured. As she readied herself for bed—washing, quickly redressing her hair before replacing the wedding crown—the worries circled.
Martina was teething, and for a child so small she had a large voice. I cannot give her up.
‘Do you think he will consummate the marriage tonight, Sophia?’ she asked. Her cheeks heated at the thought.
Sophia shrugged. ‘Who can say? A man like the Duke may do anything.’
The door latch clicked—it was the Duke.
Chapter Nine
‘Thank you, Lady Sophia,’ Nikolaos said. ‘That will be all.’ He had changed out of the dress uniform of the Athanatoi and had put on a long green tunic that was belted at the waist. He was still wearing his wedding crown.
Theodora stood in the darkened bedchamber, a bundle of conflicting hopes and desires. He has not removed the wedding crown. Does that mean he is going to honour the tradition of the eight days of chastity? She did not want him to consummate their marriage. He might turn against me if he realises I am not innocent. At the same time, she was honest enough to accept that part of her was looking forward to the consummation. I desire this man.
Sliding the bolt across after Sophia had closed the door, her husband walked towards her. A gentle finger stroked her cheek. His hand lifted, teasing a tendril of hair out from under her crown. As a violet fell to the floor, his lips curved. A small tug brought her chest to chest with him and she forgot to breathe.
She cleared her throat. ‘My lord—’
‘Nikolaos, please.’ He grinned. ‘Or Niko, if you prefer.’
‘Nikolaos—’
‘So formal,’ he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek. ‘So beguiling, my little princess bride.’
Theodora’s cheek warmed where his lips had been. That swooping sensation was back in her belly and she knew it was not entirely caused by nervousness. She desired this handsome general who had become her husband. She didn’t feel ready to allow him to know her fully, but she could not deny that she was drawn to him.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ he murmured.
‘I am not afraid.’ She reached for his shoulders. Nikolaos was taller than Peter, she had to reach higher than she was used to. Her new husband also had shoulders that were wider and more muscled. He was all warrior, so very...male. Boldly, Theodora slid her hands across his chest. The green tunic could not hide the power in his frame, he had muscles everywhere. What would it be like to be swept up in his arms? He would be gentle with her, she hoped. He would be capable of tenderness...
Cleo. She knew the name of his mistress and for some reason it jumped to the front of her mind. She frowned.
He drew back. ‘What is it? Theodora?’ Large hands rested on her waist, his thumbs gently stroking just below her ribs.
‘Nothing.’ She studied his face—the characterful line of that Roman nose, the curve of his mouth. She didn’t love him, she liked and respected him, but she didn’t want to lose him to anyone else. He was her husband and she intended to keep him. Closing the space between them, she noted both the flare of interest in his eyes and the answering ache in her belly. I want you.
‘I have to say I agree with you about crowns,’ he said, bending to kiss the side of her face.
‘Inconvenient, aren’t they?’
‘Mmm.’ He kissed her ear. ‘I should like you to remove mine.’
Theodora let her fingers move up and down on the side of his neck. She told herself it was so subtle a movement, he probably would not notice. ‘And the eight days of chastity?’
He groaned and her fingers froze. She heard a soft laugh.
‘I think we are both in agreement that chastity is not for us, my princess. With your permission, we shall consummate our marriage tonight.’ His dark head lowered and he nuzzled her neck, giving her earlobe a soft bite. ‘My crown, if you please.’
Lifting the crown from him, she placed it on a table.
Slowly, as though he were afraid of startling her, he did the same for her. Then he was back, close enough for her to enjoy his body heat, guiding her hands to his belt. ‘With your permission, my princess, I should like you to help me.’
His decisiveness—We shall consummate our marriage tonight!—overrode some, if not all, of Theodora’s qualms. ‘Very well, my lord.’
If she allowed him this, it would help bond him to her more fully, as Sophia had suggested. He might accept her secrets more easily. She prayed that would be the case. Against the odds, he was winning her trust. In truth, she could easily see herself becoming fond of him. Sweet Mother, let him come to feel affection for me, too. Nikolaos would honour his obligations to her, she was sure, but she wanted more than the honouring of obligations. And then there was Cleo—Theodora really didn’t want to lose him to anyone else.
Her fingers fumbled at the buckle, she could not undo it. Her hand fell away.
Dark eyes smiled into hers. ‘Come, it is time my princess was unveiled.’ Deft fingers worked at her belt and it fell to the floor with a small clatter. Catching her hands, he set them on his waist. ‘With your permission, Theodora, I really would like your assistance.’
Theodora was no virgin, but there had only been one other man she had touched in such a way. Her pulse jumped, secret inner muscles tightened. ‘You truly wish to bed me tonight?’
He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. ‘I burn for you, Theodora.’
She had to fight down a sudden rush of panic; she was taking a lot on trust and her fears were never far away. She was desperate to believe Nikolaos was so honourable that he would accept her, flawed as she was. Had she judged him correctly? She could be mistaken, there were no guarantees. What will he do when he discovers the truth? ‘But, Nikolaos, the traditions...the formalities...the Patriarch? The Patriarch will be most disappointed—’
‘Who’s to tell him? I certainly won’t. This is between you and me.’ A teasing light entered his eyes. ‘The eight days of chastity are not for us, my princess. You have shown commendable maidenly modesty by objecting, but that is quite enough. We shall consummate our marriage tonight. Here...’ He guided her hand back to his belt buckle. ‘Try again—help me, if you please.’
This time, Theodora managed the buckle and she could not help notice that he was already very much aroused. Somewhat shakily, she put the belt on a side-table.
He pulled her to the side of the huge, silk-draped bed and flung the mulberry-coloured coverlet aside. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he drew her on to his lap.
Taken by shyness, Theodora leaned into him and buried her head in his neck. We have not doused the light! We must douse the light...there are faint marks on my breasts and stomach, he must not see them. If he does, he will know I have had a child.
She forced her head up, thankful she had had the foresight to have the brazier removed. However, it would be to no effect if the lamp was not put out. ‘The light, Nikolaos, I do not like the light—’ A teasing mouth cut her off and his tongue began exploring. She was surrounded by the musky scent of aroused male. He nibbled her lip, he licked it in the most gentle but determined
of seductions. Her mouth opened.
As their tongues met, a delicious weakness spread through every limb. Kissing this man was intensely pleasurable. Theodora had no notion a woman could feel so eager. Her breasts tightened. She felt a shameless impulse to rub herself against him—the power of the impulse shocked her. What is happening to me? She gripped his shoulders and forced herself to look into his eyes.
‘Nikolaos, the light...’
‘Mmm?’
‘The lamp—’ He was kissing her ear as she waved vaguely at the soft glow by the bedside.
‘So shy,’ he murmured.
It was true, she did feel shy. That at least was no lie. ‘Please, Nikolaos, I hardly know you.’
Dark eyes looked into hers; his nose nudged her cheek; he nibbled her earlobe.
‘As you wish.’ Leaning over, he reached to turn down the lamp. Night crept in on them. The dark was not complete though, she could see his dim outline, a powerful masculine shadow. ‘Better?’
‘Thank you.’
Sheets rustled as the shadow that was her husband moved quietly in the dark. His warrior’s body was warm and filled her with longing. Theodora had never imagined that she would want any man other than Peter; news of her betrothal to Duke Nikolaos had been a shock. But the Duke was, she was learning, a good man. A strong and honourable man. And he had, she was beginning to suspect, a possessive nature.
He will protect me. More importantly, he will protect Martina, particularly if I please him.
‘With your permission, Princess?’
Theodora allowed him to push her back into the mulberry-coloured pillows and sent up a swift, if muddled, prayer. Tonight she must give the performance of her life. She must pretend that she was a virgin and that this was the first time she had lain with a man. She must also—God help her—please him.
Were these two aims compatible?
Leaning over his innocent, princess bride, Nikolaos swept Theodora’s silk bed gown up over her thighs. The gown was soft, her skin was softer. Like velvet. The air smelled of violets. Of her. ‘If I may, Princess...’ He set his hand on her hip and ignored the small gasp. ‘Lift up a little.’
Silk whispered over sweetly perfumed flesh. The mattress dipped as she did as he asked. Dragging the gown clear, he dropped it on the floor. Her body was naked beneath the gown and she lay, trembling slightly, against him. She felt warm, delightful. Pure. He ached to see her.
Nikolaos enjoyed looking at his women; in his experience, the act of love was greatly enhanced by looking. It wasn’t simply that he found the beauty of a female body arousing and pleasurable, it was also that he found it was easier to judge a woman’s response if he watched her. Nikolaos liked his lovers to enjoy him. He suppressed a sigh. If his princess wanted darkness, he was not going to force her into the light. Not tonight.
Setting an elbow on a pillow, he found her cheek and kissed it. She murmured something he could not catch, he was too distracted. The desire to see her was burning in him, he pushed it to the side. In the days to come, perhaps, when she had become accustomed to him...
As he drew her fully into his arms, his mouth went dry. Her nipples were pressing into his chest through the fabric of his tunic, a realisation that set a heavy, sensual pulse throbbing in his loins. Her response might be caused by fear or cold. Or desire. Nikolaos did not think she was afraid of him; he hoped she desired him, but he could not be certain. If there was just a little more light, if the servants had but lit the brazier as he had asked...
He frowned. Odd. He could not recall seeing a brazier in the bedchamber and he distinctly remembered ordering one. Of course, the moment he had set foot across the threshold, he had had other thoughts on his mind...
‘Theodora, are you cold?’
‘No.’
She desires me. She is also untouched. I must take care.
‘There is no rush, Theodora, the whole night is before us.’
Nikolaos was careful where on her body he put his hands in those first few moments. I must not alarm her. She is a princess with impeccable bloodlines and this is her first time.
It was a pity about the lamp, a pity about the brazier. In the dark he could not follow her expression, which made judging her reactions to his touch something of a challenge. He was certainly fully aroused. He was achingly hard, ready. His innocent princess did that to him with remarkable ease.
Deciding to keep his clothes on until he was certain she was completely willing, Nikolaos set about wooing his wife.
He stroked her hair, weaving his fingers in and out of strands that were silky and fragrant with the lingering scent of violets. He found her mouth and kissed her, and kept it gentle until she moved and gave another throaty little murmur. Her small breasts shifted against him. A groan escaped him. More. He drew closer, he needed more, he wanted to cup her breasts in his palms, he wanted to learn the shape of her with lips and tongue...holding back was not easy.
‘Theodora.’ His voice was choked.
Small hands framed his face and brought his mouth back to hers. She gave a breathy moan and her mouth opened.
His tongue touched hers, subtle, questioning. Do you like this, my princess?
Another slight moan came out of the darkness, and she pressed closer. It felt almost as though...as though... Yes, it was a deliberate movement, she was rubbing her chest against him and it was no accident.
Leaning into her, Nikolaos deepened the kiss. After a moment he withdrew slightly and when those small hands held him to her, he smiled. His tunic was fast becoming an impediment. ‘Remove my tunic, little one. Please.’
‘Very well.’
Her voice was a sensual murmur, it shook a little. And—or was this his imagination?—she sounded slightly startled.
Fabric pulled as he hurried to help her, dragging the tunic over his head. He hesitated and, so she would be aware of what he was doing, he carried her fingers with his to the ties of his chausses. ‘And, if I may...?’ She was a princess, an innocent princess, he had to ask. Desire was like a fever in him, never had he felt it so strongly. He must not alarm her.
‘Of course.’
Flinging the rest of his clothes aside, Nikolaos pulled her fully against him. The feel of hot silken skin against his robbed him of thought. He was weak with hunger. Burning with need. She was breathing very fast, her slight body trembled against him. And there was no way he could hide how much she had aroused him.
‘Princess? You are alarmed?’ He felt her shake her head.
‘Not alarmed, only...’ there was a slight pause ‘...rather surprised. I had not expected to feel so...so...’ Theodora slid her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth back to hers.
Her kiss was searing. Heady with lust, in a vain attempt to regain control, Nikolaos tried to keep his mind on the individual sensations—on her tongue searching his; on her teeth biting his lower lip; on her hands stroking fire down his ribs and side; on her hands reaching his buttocks and pulling him firmly against her.
He was more than ready for her. He was pressed against her thigh, and she could be in no doubt of how ready he was, yet still he held back. One simply did not tumble a princess of the Empire even if she was... She was sliding her palms over his chest; she was wriggling that sinuous body as she pressed it against him; she was caressing his back, gripping him by the waist...
He gritted his teeth and she pulled her mouth away.
‘Princess.’ Nikolaos was suffocating with want, breathless. He was the one with experience and his virgin princess was reducing him to a quivering mass of needs. ‘I want to get this right,’ he managed. ‘I do not want to rush at you and...upset you.’
A soft laugh sounded in the darkness. ‘I do not think that will happen, my l— Nikolaos. My body enjoys your touch.’
My body enjoys your touch. They were startling words from a woman, even from a princess who had more freedom to speak her mind than most. They did not, however, displease him. On the contrary, they were exactly the encour
agement he wanted.
‘Does your body like this?’ He slid his hand down her shoulder and fitted it over one of her breasts. She gave one of those little wriggles and pressed it more fully into his palm. Perfect, the shape of her was perfect. His blood pounded, desire burned in every vein.
‘Oh, yes.’
‘And this?’ Lowering his head, he found her other breast with his mouth and took the nipple into his mouth. When he sucked, her whole body bucked and she gasped. ‘Oh, yes. Nikolaos...’
Smiling against the perfumed satin of her skin, he worked his way across, planting a trail of kisses to the other breast. His hand moved lower. Lower. Down over a smooth belly, down past the curls, down...
‘And this?’
‘Oh!’ Her legs opened, she writhed and pushed against his hand. He felt her fingers running through his hair. ‘Oh, yes.’
He could wait no longer.
* * *
Theodora breathed in her new husband’s scent. It was dark and spicy—like him, it was utterly male. This man made her feel safe in a way that Peter never had. He made her body react in a way that Peter never had. Caught between shock and delight, she sucked in a lungful of air, hardly daring to believe the aching sense of need his clever fingers were drawing from her. She pressed her lips against a satisfyingly wide shoulder and covered it with kisses. She took the tang of salt on to her tongue. Delicious, this man even tastes delicious. And she was melting with desire. Theodora didn’t delude herself that it was love that was making her feel this way, but, Lord, she had never felt like this with Peter...
Her new husband’s groan was soft in the dark. It
welcomed her, his whole body welcomed her as hers welcomed him.
I cannot wait. The urgency of the need overrode all else. She wanted to let go, to surrender utterly to him and yet...
I hardly know him! He is a stranger! Part of her, the wise part, the part that must remember who and what she was, held back. I am a virgin in his eyes. I must play the innocent.
Betrothed to the Barbarian Page 15