“Oh, Alexandra,” he said, his voice soft. His breaths were heavy, and his eyes stared into me as he traced quickly over his bottom lip with his tongue. “How am I supposed to resist that?”
Again, his mouth captured mine, and his hand grasped either side of my head, holding me close and kissing me deeply but still softly. He kissed the curve of my chin and around my throat while one hand twisted in my hair. I felt his other hand against my hip again, his fingers splayed against the silk fabric, gripping my skin tightly.
I ignored the trembling in my fingers as I reached for the ties at my throat and started to pull at the laces so Branford would have better access to me. I knew he would want to see me bare, and I found a whole new concern that he may not like what he saw. Would he consider my breasts too small or too large? I thought them average but had no idea what a man might prefer. Was I too pale? I decided it really didn’t matter, given the darkness of the room, and continued my efforts. I pulled one of the laces out and felt the cool air hit the skin of my chest.
“Alexandra,” Branford grumbled, “would you please stop trying to untie your nightdress?”
“Do you want to do it yourself?” I asked, embarrassed yet again at my lack of knowledge.
“Yes, I do,” Branford said, his voice firm, “but not tonight, Alexandra.”
Realization hit me. He wasn’t going to do this. He may have even had his fill for one night and had no reason to want to bed me. The thought caused my chest to tighten again, and I found myself practically groveling.
“Please, Branford! I don’t want to wait!” I sounded desperate, and I knew it. “I want you to…to take me…now…please.”
“Why, Alexandra?” he asked. “You aren't ready, so why do you beg me to do this?”
Why, indeed? I closed my eyes and tried to turn from him, but he would have none of that, and his hand firmly gripped my chin again. Perhaps it wouldn’t make any difference if he did take my virginity. If afterwards he found me uninteresting, and his preferences were more in tune with someone else—someone with hair the color of a sunset, a more voluptuous body, and the understanding of how to conduct herself with nobles—then why did I do this? Simply because I had no idea what else I should do.
“I don’t know anything about being your wife,” I finally said. “There’s only one thing I do know—I’m supposed to let you do this to me, and I haven’t. I know you want it, and I haven’t…I haven’t…been able to…to…”
“Let me do this to you?” Branford repeated my words. He sat up in the bed, and his hands moved up to cover his face. I could hear him grumbling low in his throat though whether he talked to me or to himself was unclear. “You know so little, and I have no idea where to begin. I’m such a fool!”
I felt tears sting my eyes again. I didn’t know anything at all, and that fact was so completely obvious, it wasn’t even worth the effort it would take to say it. He had to be so frustrated with me.
“Please…just tell me what I should do.” I begged him, reaching out and wrapping my fingers around his upper arm—his sword arm. My mind flashed to the carriage driver, and when Branford glared at my hands around his arm, I figured he was remembering the same thing. I quickly released him and mumbled my apology. “I’ll do anything you tell me to do!”
“Then tell me why,” Branford said. “Why are you offering yourself to me now?”
“I’m supposed to do so,” I said again.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked.
“You shouldn’t have to lie about me,” I said softly. “You had to lie to King Camden. I don't want you to have to speak a lie just to protect me.”
“I'd do far more than lie if you needed protecting,” Branford said with conviction. “And I never lied to Camden. I just...misled him a bit.”
“You said there was proof,” I whispered. “There wasn’t any proof because we didn't...um...do anything.”
“I wouldn't have anyone question us,” Branford said. “I left...evidence.”
I furrowed my brow, trying to understand what he could possibly mean. Then I remembered washing his hands in the basin the morning after we were married.
“You cut your hand,” I said.
Branford tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.
“I will protect you,” he repeated.
“You might…” I stopped, not sure exactly what I would say.
“I might what?” Branford asked.
“You might…you don’t…I know you don’t want to wait.”
“I’m not the only one in the bed, Alexandra,” Branford said, reaching out and taking my face in the palm of his hand. “We must both be willing, my wife—not just me.”
Branford sighed and slipped back down to lie on his side, propping himself up on one arm and looking down at me.