She fanned herself again. “I need a very large brandy. Would you mind pouring while I inform Marie?”
“I would be happy to, dear wife. After all, this day calls for a toast.”
“Indeed,” she said with a nervous squeak that made him smile.
He crossed the room to a cabinet bearing several sizes and colors of decanters. As he unstoppered one and sniffed the contents, he noticed the settee that had collapsed beneath him had been removed and replaced with a sofa that appeared to be much sturdier. Good. Perhaps after this evening’s supper party,they might put that sofa to good use, if sweet Sophie was so inclined.
After he filled their glasses, a realization hit him, halting him with the bottle still raised. Gads, he wanted her with an unquenchable fury. More than he had ever wanted any woman before. Maybe it was her fire. Or her wit. All he knew without a doubt was that it wasn’t merely a physical need because of her stunning shapeliness, the perfect pout of her full lips, or the luxuriousness of her glorious red hair. It was more than that, something he couldn’t quite define. His precious Sophie was, for lack of a better word, incomparable in every way, and that was how he wanted her—mind, body, heart, and soul bound to him completely.
The bedroom door softly clicked behind him, and he turned to find her nervously chewing on her lip as she leaned back against it.
“Marie has gone and will not return until time to help me dress for the party.” She wrinkled her nose. “She was quite smug about it, too. Everyone knows what we are doing.” She rolled her shoulders and pinned him with a displeased look. “It is most unsettling.”
He sauntered toward her while holding out her drink. “Did you wish them to believe you intended to maintain your virginity?”
Her mouth flew open. “I cannot believe you said such a thing.” She grabbed the glass from him and indulged in a hearty gulp.
“We are husband and wife now, my swan. We can say anything to one another—whenever it is only the two of us, of course. I would never embarrass you by speaking in such a manner when we were not alone.” He lifted his glass. “To many years of happiness.”
With a sudden shift to a timidity he had never seen in her before, she lifted her glass as well. “To happiness. Many years of it.”
“Sophie.” He set his drink on a nearby table, took hers, and set it alongside it. With her hands in his, he gently pulled her closer. “You do not have to be afraid.”
“I am not afraid.” But her voice quivered. She cleared her throat and thrust her chin upward. “I am not afraid,” she repeated. “I am just…just…”
He released her and returned her brandy to her. “You are just afraid.”
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. Her forlorn look almost undid him.
Retrieving his own drink, he took her by the hand, led her to the sofa, and gently but firmly tugged her down to sit beside him. “I will never do anything to hurt you. Nor will I ever do anything you do not wish me to do.” He leaned closer, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “If you wish to remain a virgin until you are more comfortable with our situation, I will not lie to you and say that I’ll like it, but I will respect your decision. I would never force myself upon you. The choice is always yours.”
“But wouldn’t that cause you harm?” She appeared to be almost cringing.
He frowned, not quite certain what she meant. “It would not make me happy or at all comfortable, but it would not cause me any harm.”
She took another deep gulp of her brandy, glanced at the tightly closed hallway door, then inched closer to him. “But what about the risk ofthingsfalling off?” she whispered.
“Things falling off?”
She affirmed his question with a rapid nod. “I read it in one of Maman’s manuals. If a man does not—” She fluttered her fingers as if to help her find the words. “If he does not find hisrelief, certain parts of his anatomy risk becoming unattached from his person.” Concern shone in her ever-widening eyes. “I would never wish to cause you such harm.” She offered a sheepish tip of her head. “I know I kneed you there in a fit of anger, but I do not wish you any permanent damage.”
He clamped his mouth shut and held his breath to keep from laughing. After regaining enough control where he thought it was safe to speak, he took her hand in his. “I fear you are misinformed, my swan. While a man’s parts might throb so badly that they feel as though they are about to fall off, I have never heard of them actually doing so. At least not from the lack of coupling.”
“There are other reasons they might fall off?”
“Injury…disease… Might we get back to the subject at hand? I do not expect you to submit to me like some sort of—like someone who has no choice in the matter.” He rose to refill his glass, then turned back and held out his hand for hers. “More?”
She handed it to him. “Most definitely.”
As he poured, a tense pause filled the room, creeping up behind him like a fiend about to pummel him in the back of his head. “Speak your thoughts, Sophie. Your silence is deafening.”
She wet her lips as she accepted the drink from him. “Perhaps Maman’s books were not entirely accurate.” Her eyes slowly narrowed. “But Maman is not a fool. Why would she keep such books for me to find?”
He simply had to smile. “Perhaps she wished to keep her daughter innocent and untouched? Although, if you were the compassionate sort, her methods could bring her more trouble than good by your thinking you could save a man from losing hispartsby allowing him to have his way with you.”
“Compassion has never been my strongest trait, and Maman knows it.” Sophie hung her head. “She knew I would think of it as a weapon.”
A laughing snort burst free of him. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.
