Swallowing convulsively, Alexandra opened her tear-brightened eyes, amazed and relieved as the brief pain began to subside. Her husband's handsome face was dark with passion and harsh with regret, and she put her arms around him. "It wasn't as bad as that," she whispered.
The fact that she was trying to console him was more than Jordan could withstand. The cynicism and cold reserve that had surrounded him like an impenetrable wall for most of his twenty-seven years began to disintegrate completely, washed away in a tidal wave of selfless passion that raged through every pore of his body. With painstaking slowness, Jordan began to move within her, plunging gently, then retreating to plunge again, watching her lovely flushed face, as she began instinctively to move with him.
With her nails biting into the bunched muscles of his back, Alexandra strained toward him in trembling need, pressing herself willingly to the demanding, rhythmic thrusts of his hard body, while within her an uncontrollable inner excitement began to build, jarring her body with quick, piercing stabs of desire.
"Don't fight it, darling," Jordan whispered thickly, his shoulders and arms taut with the strain of holding back, his chest heaving with the force of each labored breath. Steadily, he began to increase the tempo of his driving, rhythmic strokes. "Let it happen."
Ecstasy exploded in Alexandra, spilling through her veins while spasms racked her body, making her cry out. The moment she did, Jordan tightened his arms around her and drove fiercely into her. His body erupted like a volcano, pouring his seed into her welcoming warmth with a force that made his entire body jerk again and again. Convulsions of pleasure were still racking him as he gently lifted his weight from her and moved onto his side, taking Alexandra with him, his body still joined with hers.
Alexandra surfaced slowly from the sweet, hot oblivion to which he had sent her, eventually becoming aware of where she was. As she lay in his protective embrace, her head nestled beneath his chin, she did not know it was possible to feel so loved. Even now, she could still feel the warmth of his intimate caresses and wildly exciting kisses.
Almost from the moment he had joined her in bed, she had realized instinctively that her husband had desired and needed her, but she hadn't quite understood what it was he was seeking from her. Now she knew. He had wanted that explosion of pure pleasure—and he had wanted her to feel it, too. Pride and joy seeped through her at the knowledge that she had been able to give him that. She had been able to make his powerful body tremble as he had made hers tremble, she had made him gasp with delight.
It did not occur to her to feel embarrassment over the wanton way she had returned his passion. Love meant giving everything and holding nothing back, as her grandfather had said. It meant entrusting your happiness to another, and, in return taking full responsibility for that person's happiness. She had done both tonight.
Her mind drifted to babies. She had never understood why couples sometimes got babies they didn't seem to want. No doubt they got them because they couldn't help going to bed and doing this glorious thing Jordan called "making love."
Jordan moved slightly, tipping his head down to tenderly gaze at his wife. In the candle glow, the purity of her face was striking. With her unbelievably long eyelashes resting like curly fans against her smooth, high cheeks, she looked fragile and innocent and incredibly pretty. He had intended to introduce her to passion; instead she had taught him selfless, uninhibited giving. She was innocence and ardor; devoid of guile; trusting and candid and sweet. A natural temptress.
A faint smile curved his lips as he finally recognized the fact that she had adroitly used his own technique at lovemaking to make love to him, but she had added something to it—something elusive and profoundly touching. Something that made him feel both proud and strangely humble; possessive and yet unworthy. And suddenly, very uneasy.
Wondering if she was already asleep, he touched his lips to her forehead and whispered her name, then he raised his hand, intending to brush her tousled curls off her forehead.
Her eyes opened, and what he saw in their glowing blue depths stilled his hand and made it tremble—he saw the same thing that had made his body tremble when she kissed and touched him:
All the love in the universe was shining in her eyes.
"Oh my God," he whispered hoarsely.
Hours later when he had made love to her for the second time, Jordan held her cradled in his arms, staring fixedly at the dying candles on the mantel, unable to banish the possessive jealousy he felt stirring to life within him. "Alexandra," he said more gruffly than he intended, "never believe a man who says 'trust me'—especially if you don't happen to have any clothes on at the time."
She opened her eyes and her smile was filled with amusement. "How many men do you expect to be talking to me while I have no clothes on, my lord?"
"None," he said sternly. "I was merely joking about that part." Unable to tell her bluntly not to trust him or any other man, Jordan said evasively, "It's foolish to trust people too much. You'll be hurt if you do."
Her smile sobered. "I would be hurting myself if I didn't. Don't you trust people?"
"Not very many and not completely."
Alexandra lifted her hand and brushed her fingertip against his warm, sensual lips. "If you don't trust," she told him with that combination of wisdom and naiveté that Jordan found so disarming, "you'll never be disappointed by someone. But you will also cheat yourself of the chance to ever be completely happy." Unable to stop touching him, Alexandra traced the curve of his hard jaw, unaware of the desire kindling in his eyes and sparking to life within her. "You are beautiful and gentle and wise and strong," she whispered, watching his eyes darken as her hand drifted down his throat to his chest. "But you need to learn to trust people, especially me. Without complete trust, love can't survive, and I love y—"
Jordan captured her lips in a devouring kiss that silenced her words and sent her spinning off into a warm sweet world, where nothing existed except the wild beauty of his lovemaking.
Chapter Eleven
They made a brief stop in London early the next evening, and while Jordan attended to some sort of business he had there, their coachman gave Alexandra a two-hour tour of what she was convinced must be the most exciting city in the world.
The sun was sinking into the sea on the horizon when they arrived at their ship the following day. Alexandra drank in the sights and sounds of the seaport with greedy delight, watching stevedores walking up and down planks with huge crates slung effortlessly over their shoulders, while giant cranes lifted cargo nets off the docks and lowered them onto the vessels. Mighty warships with towering masts were being loaded with provisions and made ready to join their sister ships in the blockade of the American colonies, or to continue the battle with the French on the sea. Burly seamen strolled down the docks with their arms around women whose faces were rouged and whose gowns made Alexandra's peignoirs seem demure.