“We’re going inside?” she asked.
“We’re going inside.”
She wound one arm around his neck, clinging to his shoulder with the other one, and then buried her face against him.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she said.
Already marching toward the servants’ entrance, Reed’s breath hitched. “You want our marriage to be a real one.” He was fairly certain he knew the answer, but just to be sure…
“Yes.” She emphasized her answer with a short nod. “I do.”
It was all he needed to hear, and highly motivated, he pushed his chamber door open within moments.
Torn between his need to have her—now!—and his desire to make love to her slowly, to memorize each curve and slant of her body, he hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Goldie wiggled, and he lowered her feet to the floor.
She dragged her hand down his chest, and he realized that he was already half-naked. Not ten minutes before, he’d had sweat pouring off him.
This was their wedding night. He ought to have presented himself in a silk dressing robe, fresh from a bath. “I should clean up first. You deserve better than—”
“I don’t want better. I want you like this.” Moonlight slanted across her face enough to show the uptilt of her lips.
Her palm pressed flat against his sternum, and she had not stepped away.
“I should wash.” But he didn’t move. And his voice sounded more animal than human. When had his sweet sunshine become a seductress?
“Light a flint,” she said.
Her wish, at that moment, was his command.
Moving quickly, albeit a little clumsily, Reed adjusted his breeches, which had become considerably tighter, and then struck the flint and lit candles on the dresser and the desk by the window.
Goldie was at the wash basin, dampening a linen. Turning to face him, she gestured toward a chair. “Sit for me.”
Mesmerized by her voice, Reed did as she asked.
And then, with slow, tantalizing strokes, his virgin bride began to bathe his torso.
“You are a good man, Reed.” She dragged the cloth from shoulder to shoulder, taking her time. “You care about your sisters. And your mother.” She scrubbed the back of his neck. “And you did everything you could for your uncle.”
Reed tilted his head forward, hypnotized by her touch.
“And for your cousin.” She dragged the linen down one arm.
“For your father and brother,” she added, moving around to his front. “You did everything you could.”
Her hands crept around to his chest. And then, sliding the cloth lower, she teased the line of his breeches, her mouth inches from his ear. “And that is good enough. You are good enough. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.”
His patience evaporated.
She’d married him because she had wanted to. Reed shot out of the chair, spun around, and captured her mouth with his. He tasted her, devoured her mouth even as he walked her backward toward the bed.
She wanted this as badly as he did. The time for words was over.
She was his wife.
His beloved wife!
