He waited several minutes before he realized she'd fallen asleep. His fingers threaded through her hair and he shifted positions just a little so he could kiss the top of her head. "A woman's body is like a temple," he whispered.
He didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. He pulled the covers up, wrapped his arms around his bride, and closed his eyes.
His last thought before he drifted off to sleep made him smile. The nun really had been right when she'd told Alesandra men would want to worship. He sure as certain had.
He was neither mad nor out of control. He still had a conscience. He simply chose not to listen to it. Yes, he knew what he was doing was wrong. It still mattered to him, or at least it had mattered that first time. She had rejected him and had deserved to die. Rage had guided his hands, his dagger. He'd only wanted to kill her. He hadn't expected the rush, hadn't known how powerful he would feel, how invincible.
He could stop. He raised his glass and took a long drink. He would stop, he vowed.
His scarred boots were in the corner. He stared at them a long minute before making up his mind to throw them away tomorrow. There were flowers on the table… waiting… ready… taunting him.
He hurled the glass at the hearth. Glass splintered to the ground. He reached for the bottle while he chanted his promise.
He would stop.
Chapter 9
Alesandra awoke late the next morning. Colin had already left the bedroom. It was just as well because she didn't want him to see her pitiful condition. She was so stiff and sore, she groaned like an old woman when she got out of bed. And no wonder, she thought to herself when she saw the stains of blood on the sheets. No one had warned her that making love would cause her to bleed. She frowned with worry and irritation then, for it was a fact that no one had told her anything. Was it a usual occurrence to bleed? What if it wasn't usual at all? What if Colin had accidentally torn something that couldn't be repaired?
She tried not to panic and succeeded until she bathed. The tenderness and the additional blood on the washcloth frightened her, though. She was embarrassed, too. She didn't want Flannaghan to see the stains when he changed the sheets, so she stripped the bed herself.
Alesandra continued to fret while she dressed. She put on a pale blue dress and matching soft leather shoes. The gown had a white border along the square neckline and around the cuffs of the long sleeves. It was a very feminine dress and one of Alesandra's favorites. She brushed her hair until it crackled with curl, then went in search of her husband.
Their first encounter in the light of day after the intimacy they had shared the night before was going to be awkward for her and she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. If she tried, she was certain she would be able to hide her embarrassment.
Colin was sitting at his desk in the study. The door facing the corridor was open. She stood in the entrance, debating whether she should interrupt him or not. He must have felt her gaze on him, however, because he suddenly looked up. He was still frowning with concentration over the letter he was reading, but his expression quickly changed. Tenderness came into his eyes when he smiled at her.
She thought she might have smiled back. She couldn't be certain. Dear Lord, was she ever going to become accustomed to having him around? He was such a handsome man. His shoulders seemed wider to her today, his hair appeared darker, his skin more bronzed. The white shirt he wore accentuated his appeal. It was a stark contrast to his coloring. Her gaze turned to his mouth and she was suddenly flooded with memories of how it had felt to be kissed by him… everywhere.
Alesandra hastily lowered her gaze to his chin. She wasn't about to let him know how embarrassed she was feeling. She would be dignified and sophisticated.
"Good morning, Colin." Her voice croaked like a frog. Her face felt as though it was on fire. Retreat seemed the only choice. She would try to face him later, when she was more in control. "I can see you're busy," she told him in a rush as she backed away. "I'll go on downstairs."
She turned and started to walk away. "Alesandra."
"Yes?"
"Come here."
She walked back to the entrance. Colin leaned back in his chair and crooked his finger at her. She straightened her shoulders, forced a smile, and walked inside. She stopped when she reached his desk. That wasn't good enough for him. He motioned her over to his side. She maintained her nonchalant attitude as she circled the desk. Colin was never going to know how awkward she was feeling.
He looked at her for a long minute. "Are you going to tell me what's the matter with you?"
Her shoulders slumped a little. "You're a difficult man to fool," she remarked.
He frowned. "Since you're never going to try to fool me, that fact isn't significant, is it?"
"No."
He waited another minute or two, and when she didn't explain, he asked her again. "Tell me what's bothering you."
She turned her gaze to the floor. "This is… awkward for me, seeing you after…"
"After what?"
"Last night."
A faint blush turned her cheeks pink. Colin found her reaction delightful—arousing, too. He pulled her onto his lap, then nudged her chin up and smiled at her. "And?" he prodded.
"In the light of day, the memory of what we did together makes me feel a little embarrassed."
"The memory makes me want you again."
Her eyes widened over his gruff confession. "But you can't."
"Sure I can," he told her cheerfully.
She shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.
He frowned. "Why can't you?"
Her blush felt as though it was burning her skin. "Isn't it enough that I tell you I can't?"
"Hell, no, it isn't enough."
She turned her gaze to her lap. "You're making this difficult," she remarked. "If my mother was here I could talk to her, but…"
She didn't continue. The sadness in her voice made him forget his irritation. She was worrying about something and he was determined to find out what it was. "You can talk to me," he said. "I'm your husband, remember? We shouldn't have any secrets between us. You liked making love," he added with a nod.
He sounded terribly arrogant to her. "Perhaps," she replied, just to prick his temper.
He let her see his exasperation. "Perhaps? You came apart in my arms," he whispered. The memory made his own voice harsh. "Have you forgotten so soon?"
"No. I haven't forgotten. Colin, you hurt me."
She blurted out that truth and waited for him to apologize. She would tell him about her injury then and he would understand why he couldn't touch her again.
"Baby, I know I hurt you."
The heat in his voice, so rough, so masculine, made her shiver. She shifted in his lap. He immediately grabbed hold of her h*ps to hold her still. She didn't have any idea what the conversation was doing to him, of course—having her sweet bottom rubbing so intimately against him made him hard with desire.
Alesandra wasn't embarrassed any longer. She was irritated because she had just realized her husband was callous in his attitudes. He didn't seem at all contrite.
The disgruntled look on her face made him smile. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice soothing now. "It won't hurt like that again."
She shook her head. She wouldn't look into his eyes and turned her gaze to his chin. "You don't understand," she whispered. "Something… happened."
"What happened?" he asked, holding on to his patience.
"I bled. It was on the sheets and I…"
He finally understood. Colin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He had two purposes in mind. One, he wanted to hold her, and two, he didn't want her to see his smile. She might think he was laughing at her.
She didn't want his embrace at all, but he was much stronger than she was and much more determined. He was going to soothe her whether she wanted him to or not. When she finally gave in and relaxed against him, he let out a sigh and rubbed his chin against the top of her head. "And you thought something was wrong, didn't you? I should have explained. I'm sorry. You've been worrying for no reason."
The tenderness in his voice calmed her fear just a little. She still wasn't certain she believed him, though. "Are you telling me I was supposed to bleed?"
She sounded suspicious—and appalled at the very idea. Colin didn't laugh. "Yes," he announced. "You were supposed to bleed."
"But that's… barbaric."
He disagreed with that opinion. He told her he found it both pleasing and arousing, and she immediately announced that he was barbaric, too.
Alesandra had lived in a cocoon with the nuns. She'd arrived as a little girl and left as a woman. She hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone about the changes taking place in her body or talk about the feelings those changes evoked, and Colin counted himself blessed because her sensuality hadn't been destroyed or marred. The mother superior might not have wanted to talk about sex, but she hadn't filled Alesandra's head with a lot of frightening nonsense. The nun had elevated the marriage act, too, by using such euphemisms as temple and worship, and even noble and worthy, and because of her attitude, Alesandra hadn't believed it was degrading or foul.
His sweet bride was like a butterfly emerging from her isolated shelter. Her own sensuality and her passionate response probably scared the hell out of her.
"I'm fortunate the nuns didn't warp you by planting fears in your head," he remarked.
"Why would they?" she asked, clearly puzzled. "The wedding vows we took are sacred. It would have been a sin to mock the sacrament."
Colin was so pleased with her, he hugged her. He apologized again because she had fretted needlessly, and then explained in detail exactly why she was supposed to bleed. He didn't stop there. The mother superior had told Alesandra that a child was the noble and worthy result of the union. Colin explained exactly how conception occurred. He talked about the differences in their bodies while he rubbed her back in a lazy fashion. The spontaneous lecture lasted nearly twenty minutes. She'd been embarrassed when he began his explanation, but his matter-of-fact attitude soon helped her get over her shyness. She was extremely curious about his body and plied him with questions. He answered all of them.
She was vastly relieved when he'd finished. She leaned away from him, thinking to give him her thank you for explaining, but the warm glint in his eyes made her forget what she was about to say. She kissed him instead. "Did you honestly believe we would never…" She wouldn't let him finish. "I worried we couldn't."
"I want you now."
"I'm too tender," she whispered. "And you did just say it would take a few days to feel better."
"There are other ways to find fulfillment."
Her curiosity was pricked. "There are?" she asked in a breathless whisper.
He nodded. "Lots of ways."
The way he was staring at her made her restless with desire. A warm glow was forming in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly wanted to get a little closer to him. She put her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his hair, and smiled at him. "How many ways?"
"Hundreds," he exaggerated.
The way he was smiling at her told her he was teasing. She responded in kind. "Then I should probably take notes while you explain them to me. I wouldn't want to forget one or two."
He laughed. "Demonstration is more fun than taking notes."
"Begging your pardon, milord, but you have a visitor downstairs."
Alesandra almost jumped off Colin's lap when the sound of Flannaghan's voice reached her. Colin wouldn't let her go. He continued to look at his bride when he spoke to his servant. "Who is it?"
"Sir Richards."
"Damn."
"Don't you like him?" asked Alesandra. Colin let out a sigh. He lifted Alesandra off his lap and stood up. "Sure I like him," he replied. "The damn was because I know he won't be put off. I'll have to see him. Flannaghan, send him up."
The butler immediately left to fetch the director. Alesandra turned to leave. Colin grabbed her hand and pulled her back. He put his arms around her, leaned down, and gave her a long kiss. His mouth was hot, wet, demanding, and when he pulled back, she was trembling with desire. Her uninhibited response pleased him. "Later," he whispered before he let her go.
The dark promise in his eyes left no doubt as to what he was talking about. Alesandra didn't trust her voice yet, so she simply nodded her agreement. She turned and walked out of the study. Her hands shook when she brushed her hair back over her shoulders and she bumped into the wall when she turned to go back down the hallway. She let out a little sigh over her own sorry condition. AH the man had to do was look at her and her mind turned into lettuce. One kiss and she wilted in his arms.
It was a fanciful thought, she admitted, yet all too true. Perhaps, once the newness of having a husband had worn off, she would become accustomed to Colin. She certainly hoped so, for she didn't want to spend the rest of her life bumping into walls and walking around in a daze.
She didn't want to ever take him for granted either. That thought made her smile. Colin would never let her become lax. He was a demanding, lustful man, and if last night was any indication, she also had those same qualities.
Alesandra went back into Colin's bedroom and stood by one of the windows looking out. It was a glorious day and all because Colin wanted her. She must have been perfect last night, she thought to herself. It hadn't been idle praise on his part, or he wouldn't have wanted her so soon again today, would he?
Wanting and loving weren't the same. Alesandra understood that truth well enough. She thought of herself as a realist. Yes, Colin had married her because of duty. She couldn't change that fact. She couldn't make him love her either, of course, but she believed that in time his heart would belong to her. She had already become his friend, hadn't she?
It was going to be a good, strong marriage. Both of them had taken a vow in front of God and witnesses to live as husband and wife until death did they part. Colin was too honorable to break his commitment to her, and surely in the years to come he would learn to love her.
She was already falling in love with him. Alesandra immediately shook her head in denial. She wasn't ready to think about her own feelings.