He reached up with his other hand and caught my face between his palms. His dark eyes gazed at me, and I could feel my will slowly seep into them.
“I want to show you pleasure,” he whispered. “I want to see desire in your eyes when you look upon me. I want to know you, Alexandra, and I want you to know me.”
My heart began to beat harder, which reminded me of the feeling of his hand as it danced over the sensitive flesh of my breast. I remembered the feeling that ensued so far away from his exploring fingers and how he seemed to know exactly what I felt.
“We agreed upon three days,” Branford said suddenly, and I wondered if he could hear my thoughts. “Pray, would you consider allowing me to alter the deal?”
“Alter it?”
“If after three days, you decide you no longer wish to be my wife, we will find a way for you to be safe and provided for but still free from me if that is your desire. If I have proven myself to you—earned your forgiveness—we will consummate our marriage.”
I stared at him, unable to form a reply.
“The timing would be the same,” Branford said, continuing. “This was supposed to be our first night. Since we will be in each other’s company, I think I could keep our other plans…well…on schedule.”
I dug my teeth into my bottom lip and found I had to look away from the blazing green eyes that threatened, yet again, to capture me. After everything that had occurred, the unknown had a brand new appeal it never had before. Even considering the idea of beginning again in a new place was more frightening than staying under any circumstances. Despite my concerns, I could feel the increase in my heartbeat as his fingers graced over my cheek. When he spoke of our “other plans,” a deep ache surfaced in the most intimate area of my body.
“I beg you, Alexandra,” Branford said when I still hadn’t responded. “Will you allow me? Will you allow me to make amends to you?”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to tell him no, that I just wanted to go as far away as I could, but another part of me wanted to wake up in the morning, surrounded by the warm strength of his arms. When my silence became too much for him, he spoke again, his tone more earnest than before.
“Are you agreeable, Alexandra?”
I recalled my answer to the same question back in the stables in Hadebrand, just three short days before, and how it had altered my existence. If it were possible for him to offer to send me back to my life prior to meeting him, I would have gladly taken it. But that option was no longer available to me.
“Please, Alexandra.” Branford’s eyes spoke of his desperation. Indeed, they seemed to beg me as much as his words. “Please let me use the next three days to make up for the last three.”
My heart pounded. I knew I was at a crossroads, and my reply may bring me either happiness or misery, but I did not know which path I should take. With thoughts born of hope and fear, I finally gave him my answer.
“Yes, my…Branford.”
And that was how our marriage began again.
Chapter 3—Grudgingly Recount
I woke again to the warmth of my husband’s embrace.
When we had lain down to sleep, Branford had kept his distance. He had reached over to grasp my hand and place a small kiss on my knuckles before wishing me good night, but I had not fallen asleep in his arms as I had the two nights prior. Regardless, that’s where I found myself in the morning, unsure of how I had arrived in such a position but not feeling uneasy about it. Like it had been before, his embrace felt comfortable and reassuring even when his words and actions did not.
The fire still burned brightly, so I knew I hadn’t slept for long. Under my head, I could feel the increased rate of Branford’s heart and the nearly gasping breaths he took. I turned to look into his face and could see his eyes moving quickly under their lids and the hard set of his jaw. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed much too rapidly for peaceful sleep.
I reached up and slowly stroked the side of his face. He flinched when I first touched him and then slowly relaxed. I felt the constricted muscles of his arms and chest as they loosened, and his breath and pounding heart gradually returned to a more normal sleeping rate. He turned his head into my hand, and he let out one last, heavy sigh as his arms tightened around me briefly.
I took my own deep breath and settled back against him but kept my hand resting against his cheek. I wondered what dream he may have had to cause such a reaction in him or if he would remember it when he woke in the morning. I hoped he would not because even now that he had relaxed, his face was still tight, and he did not appear the least bit peaceful. I let my eyes flutter shut and listened to the sounds of my husband’s deep breathing as I drifted back to sleep.
The next time I opened my eyes, I could see the dim light from the windows and feel Branford’s hand as it traveled over the top of my head and down my hair, slowly stroking the strands from top to bottom. As I had before, I for fear of his touch to engulf me, but lying here in our bed, there was none. I blinked my eyes a few times to get used to the light and then looked up into Branford’s gaze.
The expression in his eyes was difficult to determine—a strange cross between concern, hope, and trepidation. He flicked his tongue o
ut over his bottom lip, and his hand paused in its movements on my hair.
“Good morning, Alexandra,” he finally said.
“Good morning, Branford,” I replied. “Did you sleep well?”
“No,” he answered immediately, “but waking up was still a very pleasant experience.”
I felt the heat rise to my face.