Simon shook his head in amazement. “What a fool my cousin was!”
“So I have come to realize.” Suzanne hesitated. “Do you mind when I mention him? Should I stop?”
“Not at all! Whenever you talk of him, I feel better about myself and our marriage.”
She laughed. “And so you should!”
* * *
A long day of riding and learning how to handle firearms left Suzanne tired but content. Despite the near calamity the night before, she and Simon had regained their ease with each other and were growing even closer. She’d never known a man to whom she could say anything.
Nonetheless, she was a little uncertain about how they would arrange their night’s sleep. Simon made it easy. When they went upstairs, he said, “I’ll join you in your room when I’m ready for bed.”
She entered her room and changed into her nightgown and robe quickly, not wanting to be caught half naked. After years in the harem, she had no modesty left, but she didn’t want to make things more difficult for Simon. She’d learned that men were easily aroused if they saw too much bare skin.
But Simon took his time before joining her. She should have known he wouldn’t permit any awkwardness. She was sitting up in the bed leaning against piled pillows when he arrived. He moved to the fireplace and began preparing the coals to warm them through the night.
His tone conversational, he asked, “Do you need another massage? It usually takes a few days for sore riding muscles to recover.”
“I’d like that,” she admitted. “As long as it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”
He stood and brushed his hands off. “If you’re asking if that will make me want you more, the answer is yes. But any minor discomfort is more than balanced by the pleasure of feeling you under my hands.”
She wanted his touch also, so she pushed the covers back and lay face down on the lower sheet. Simon moved to the side of the bed and began gently kneading her neck and shoulders. “That feels so good,” she murmured.
“So do you,” he said as his strong fingers soothed her muscles and bones.
On impulse, she asked, “What are you thinking when you do this?”
He hesitated before saying, “That any woman who enjoys being touched as much as you might someday become comfortable with more intimate touching.”
Suzanne froze. “Relax,” Simon said with a gentle pat on her rump. “If that ever happens, it will be because you want it.” Then he returned to gently kneading her back into relaxation.
When she was halfway to sleep, he said, “Now we build a bedtime sandwich.”
“Oh?”
“Since you’ve been living in a hot climate for years, you must need more blankets, so you’re the lowest layer.” He deftly rolled her onto her back and pulled several of the blankets over her. Then he lit the shielded night candle, which gave only a minimum of light, and extinguished the brighter lamp.
Lastly he climbed onto the opposite side of the bed, lying on top of the blankets that covered her before pulling the other blankets over them both. With a contented sigh, he rolled onto his side and put his arm around her. “This is neater than our impromptu arrangement last night.”
Suzanne agreed as she burrowed against him. He was so warm and comfortable. Here they were in each other’s arms and, if he had an erection, she wouldn’t know about it. “Good night, milord,” she whispered. “Thank you for marrying me.”
He made a soft, friendly sound before his breathing became slow and steady. She was ready to do the same, but as she drifted into sleep, she wondered if he was right that her love of holding him might someday make her more comfortable with full intimacy.
She hoped so. Dear God, she hoped so!
* * *
Their honeymoon might have been unconventional, but it fulfilled the requirement of spending all their time and attention on each other. Suzanne’s riding skills had come back effortlessly, and she loved exploring the countryside with him.
Simon’s honeymoon concept hadn’t involved shooting lessons or teaching his lovely bride a range of dirty tricks she could use in self-defense, but she clearly enjoyed that part of it, too. Her determination to never be a victim again made her an apt student. He’d buy her some weapons that would suit her size when they returned to London.
The sandwich system of sharing a bed was not infallible. Several mornings he’d woken up with a hand resting on Suzanne’s breast. She might sleepily move it away, but she wasn’t upset.
They were invited to dinner by several neighbors, which he hadn’t expected. Suzanne pointed out that he was a major landowner in the area and people were curious about Simon and his French wife.
Though France had been the enemy, Suzanne’s charm swiftly won them over. Simon remembered many of the neighbors from his childhood, and he was warmed by their welcome. As Suzanne said later, the only thing that would have made him more desirable to the neighbors was if he were single.
