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And she knew that she would have to tell him about her leg. Oh, please, she begged her conscience, not tonight. She didn’t believe he would be repelled, but she wasn’t at all that certain. Her conscience warred with her uncertainty, rendering her markedly silent during their dinner.

Rafael was content to watch her. She’s nervous, he thought, immensely pleased. He fully planned to go very slowly with her, to lessen her inevitable virgin’s pain as much as he could. He spoke easily of inconsequential things, willing her to relax in his company, to smile with him again, perhaps even to tease him.

“Do you like your ring, Victoria?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling at him. “The sapphire is wonderful.”

“The stone nearly matches your eyes, though it isn’t as brilliant.”

It occurred to her at that moment that she hadn’t thought to buy him a wedding gift. Not that fifteen pounds would have purchased all that much. She would simply wait until she had enough money of her own, then she would find him something very fitting. She didn’t know him well enough as yet to know what that something would be.

“Would you like to retire to our rooms now, Victoria?”

She swallowed. “All right.”

“Shall I send a woman up to you? Or will you allow me to play your lady’s maid?”

“No, I’m used to seeing to myself.”

He walked beside her up the dimly lit stairs of the inn. He’d ordered adjoining rooms, feeling himself a considerate fellow. He patted her shoulder and left her at her bedchamber door.

He smiled over his shoulder at her. “Knock on my door when you wish me to come to you.”

“All right,” she said again. Tell him. You must. But she said nothing. Later, she thought. She would tell him later.

There was warm bathwater awaiting her, and she smiled toward the adjoining door, wondering when Rafael had ordered the bath for her. She undressed swiftly and stepped into the tub.

Rafael slowly undressed, folding his clothes neatly, as was his wont. Every few minutes he looked toward the adjoining door, wondering if Victoria was still in the tub. The thought of her naked made him harden instantly. His wife, he thought with satisfaction. His wife. He thought again of fate, of the unlikely set of circumstances that had brought them together. Just a bit over two weeks before, he hadn’t known she existed.

It was another ten minutes before a light, very tentative tap came on his door. He nearly bounded into her room, he was so excited. He forced himself to calm, and slowly opened the door. There was but one branch of candles on the small table beside the bed. Victoria was standing in the middle of the room, her glorious chestnut hair loose down her back. She was covered from neck to toe in a beautiful confection of peach silk, a wedding gift from Frances. She looked so exquisite he could only stare at her.

“Well,” he said finally and with great inadequacy, “did you enjoy your bath?”

She nodded shyly.

“You’re beautiful, Victoria.”

She looked at him fully as he spoke. He was wearing a rich burgundy dressing gown. His feet were bare. “As are you, Rafael.”

He grinned. “A crusty old salt like me?”

“There is nothing crusty about you. Well, perhaps your occasional lapses of wit.”

“Come here, Victoria.”

She walked to him without hesitation and he gently took her into his arms. He held her, not caressing her as yet. She smelled so good, he thought, inhaling her jasmine scent. Slowly he stroked his hands down her back, stopping before he reached her hips.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

She thought of Damien and his groping hands and stilled for just a moment. She shook her head against his shoulder. “No, not with you.”

“Well, I’m nervous,” he said, nibbling on her ear. “You will be gentle with me, won’t you, Victoria?”

She giggled, just as he had hoped she would. “I’ll treat you with the greatest circumspection,” she said, and leaned back against his arms to look up into his face. Lightly she touched her fingertips to his jaw, his lips. Slowly he leaned down and kissed her. Softly, not demanding, just a gentle exploration. Again she responded to him without hesitation, just as she had when he’d kissed her this afternoon. Her response made him draw in his breath. He wanted her very much. “Victoria,” he said against her mouth.

She felt his hands gently knead her hips, then cup her and lift her against him. He was hard against her belly, and she felt a curious heat deep inside her.

He was nibbling her ear, kissing down her throat. She arched her back against him, throwing her head back. She thought vaguely that she should tell him about her leg, and opened her mouth, but he kissed her, his tongue lightly touching hers, and she forgot about her leg.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Magic Trilogy Romance