My smile faltered.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m not used to someone waiting for me to return.”
She just watched me, all traces of confusion or concern vanished from her expression. It was just blank, as if she truly didn’t have the slightest clue how to interpret what I was saying or, more accurately, what I wasn’t doing.
“Milo,” she said carefully after a moment. “You know we’re supposed to…”
“I know,” I replied and then reached up to rub the back of my neck with a hand as if I could dispel the discomfort. “But that isn’t exactly how I envisioned my first–”
I stopped abruptly, eyes blowing wide as I realized what I’d almost said. Unfortunately, she’d been able to fill in the blanks if her dropped jaw was any indication.
“Were you going to say this is your first time?” she asked.
Her shock wasn’t doing my embarrassment any favors. Mortified, I practically leapt off the bed and paced to theopposite side of the room, as far away from her as I could get. I rubbed my palms together and blew out a breath, searching for something to say that might make this whole situation more tolerable for either of us.
“I–it never…came up,” I answered after a moment that stretched entirely too long.
“It nevercame up? What does that even mean?”
“I never exactly had an opportunity to…I’m not completely ignorant. I understand how everything works. And there was a thing with a girl at one of your grandfather’s parties. She…I’m not really comfortable discussing it.”
“Well, get comfortable,” Isla said, crossing her arms. “She what?”
“There were…er…oral–”
“She blew you.”
I sighed, throwing my head back and staring up at the ceiling while I sent a request for any gods who may or may not exist to kill me now.
“Did you like it?” Isla asked slowly, taking a step toward me.
I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me.
“What kind of question is that?” I asked.
She grinned.
“One that lets me know you’re interested,” she replied.
“I’m interested,” I replied. My gaze dropped to the low cut of her nightgown as she stepped closer before I could help it. Then I ran a hand over my face and backed away. “But I’m not the sort of man who forces a woman into his bed, Isla. Expectation of consummation be damned. I don’t want anything from you until you want it too.”
She hesitated, steps faltering where she’d been drawing closer, and her lips parted in the barest hint of surprise.
“But you’re my husband,” she sputtered for the first time. “I’m supposed to—”
“I’m not starting our marriage out by destroying your trust and violating your body, Isla,” I said, my tone firm, unyielding.
She stared at me in disbelief and suddenly anger was rising within me toward whoever had filled her head with such powerless drivel. I’d never seen Isla cower before anyone or anything. I’d be damned if she did so before our marriage bed.
I gave her a moment to let my words sink in, as well as the realization that I truly wasn’t going to go through with it if she didn’t want to. She glanced toward the bed and stared for a long time before turning back to me.
“Who was she?” she asked then, her gaze narrowed. “The girl who blew you.”
I barked out a relieved laugh and her lips stretched into a warm smile. Before I knew it, we were both in hysterics, doubled over and gasping for breath as the events of the day melted away in the peace of each other’s company. And I thought, as I watched my wife wipe tears from her eyes, there wasn’t another sound in all the world quite like Isla’s laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Olympia
