“Oh, thank God!”
She nearly inhaled the liquid. “Again!” she begged Danielle, gasping. Danielle refilled her glass, and she swallowed it down quickly again. Then she was furious with herself. She was behaving like such a coward. Just who did he think that he was, terrifying her so? He had wanted the marriage. She just wasn’t ready for this side of it. He would understand. She would make him.
She scrubbed herself to a glow then stood and grabbed for the towel Danielle offered her. Then she stood shivering as Danielle dropped a shear silk and lace gown over her head. The night was cool, despite the fire. She did not shake with fear, she absolutely assured herself.
“Bonsoir, ma petite!”Danielle told her, kissing her cheek tenderly.
“You’re leaving!” Amanda gasped.
“But of course,” Danielle said, shaking her head. But she had not left when the door suddenly opened, and Eric appeared.
His dark hair was damp, as if he had bathed elsewhere. He was clad in a long velvet robe that tied at his waist and fell nearly to his ankles. A smattering of dark hair showed at the neck of the robe where it lay open against his chest. Amanda discovered herself staring at his chest and losing the strength to stand.
“Pardonnez-moi!”Danielle said quickly.
“Bonsoir, Danielle,” he said, his eyes locked on Amanda.
Danielle left them and the door closed behind her. Amanda moistened her lips and cleared her throat. She discovered herself backing toward the windows. “Eric…”
“Yes?” He was walking toward her. He had the grace of a wildcat and the same sure stride of determination.
“I…uh…I can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“I can’t go through with this.”
“Oh?” He paused, his smile polite. “What do you mean, can’t?”
“I…” She looked down at her gown. Horror filled her as she realized that the gossamer gown delineated the rouge crests of her nipples and the red-gold triangle at the juncture of her thighs. She drew her eyes quickly back to his, wishing that she could snatch the curtains from the walls to cover herself. He was coming toward her again. She shook her head.
“Eric, I beg of you, be a gentleman and understand…”
He paused again, as if carefully weighing his decision. “No.”
“No!”
He shook his head and kept coming for her. “I told you yesterday what I would expect. You gave me your word that you would not renege.”
“I didn’t intend to renege. I swear it. Eric, please try to understand. I don’t know you—”
“By the end of the night, my love, you will know me very well.”
“Eric, honest to God, I would like to! I can’t—”
He caught her arm and pulled her hard against him. Beneath the robe she felt the pulse and vitality of his body, for her gown lay as nothing but mist between them. She felt his male shaft, rising. She looked into his eyes and saw the darkness within them and the silver glitter of his laughter as he lowered his head to whisper against her lips.
“But you can, my love. Honest to God, you can.” He lifted her into his arms. “Now, if you don’t mind, Amanda, I’d just as soon have no more of the deity on my wedding night.” He tossed her down into the softness of the bed. Even as she struggled to rise she heard his laughter, then his weight was upon her, bearing her ever farther downward into the depths of the bed.
IX
She felt as if she were immersed within lightness and magic and clouds, and yet at the same time Amanda keenly felt everything about her. She felt the rush of the river wind and the warmth and flicker of the candles and the fire. And she felt the hard-muscled body and heat of the man on top of her, barely clad in the robe, and nearly naked against her. But even as she brought her arms against his chest, she felt the simple fascination of touching him there, of feeling the dark, crisp hair with her fingertips, of knowing the ripple of sinew and muscle beneath it. When she looked up she saw that he was smiling, no, laughing.
“Don’t you dare gloat and laugh at me!” she cried, but his smile deepened and his laughter was haunting, as was the silver-blue decadence in his eyes. He planted a kiss upon her forehead, for she was powerless to move, and then his lips brushed her cheeks and her mouth, causing her to ache for more. His words fell softly against her flesh, and they, too, were a curious caress. “I’m not laughing at you, my love, and if I gloat, well, then you will have to forgive me.”
“I forgive you nothing!” she retorted, meeting his eyes in the candlelight that made a devil’s flame of them. It was best to meet his eyes. She did not dare look upon him. It was enough that she felt him.
“No, you would not!” he whispered. “Nor would you give up any fight, and yet you are, my little hawk, suddenly a sparrow in this bed.”
