His breathing was deep and even, but he wasn’t asleep, she was sure. He was too aroused to sleep. So was she.
They’d made a paper marriage, a chess maneuver: he’d walk away one day. As soon as she and Nicky were safe from Count Anton, his commitment would be over. Then she’d be alone.
For the rest of her life.
If she didn’t do this now, she would always wonder what she had missed.
Rupert had always been very predictable. In the early days she’d enjoyed it, but once she’d realized what a fool she’d made of herself it had become more of a ritual, not unpleasant, but without the warmth she’d imagined had accompanied the act in the first part of her marriage.
With Gabriel it wouldn’t be a ritual. He wasn’t at all predictable, not to her. Even when he’d just been flirting he’d aroused her with the wicked, exciting images he’d planted in her mind. Even his kisses brought her to the brink. He was warm, exciting…terrifying.
If she let him take her, the only consequences would be to her heart. She was barren. Something must have happened to her when Nicky was born, because despite Rupert’s regular monthly visits, she’d never quickened since. Not that she’d mind if Gabriel gave her a child. She would love it and love having a small part of him.
Oh God, even considering this was playing with fire. But if she didn’t, she would spend the rest of her life regretting it. So, yes, she was going to let him take her.
But how? She couldn’t just ask.
She gave a small experimental wiggle, moving her backside against his aroused male member. He tensed. That was promising. She wiggled again.
“Keep still, won’t you?” he muttered, tightening his grip on her.
For answer she wriggled some more, rubbing her bottom provocatively back and forth against his arousal. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to be half asleep and unaware of her actions.
“If you don’t keep still, I won’t be responsible for the consequences,” he growled.
She wiggled again and waited.
“You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?” he murmured.
She didn’t answer.
Without warning he flipped her over in the bed and looked her full in the face. “I gave you my word. If you’ve changed your mind, you need to say so.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Not directly. Not out loud. After a moment she said, “You say I’m a really bad liar.”
He frowned at the apparent irrelevance of the remark. “Yes, you are.”
“So what if I messed it up—with the judge or the government man or whoever it is who might ask?”
“Messed up what?”
“The—the chess maneuver. Saying we’d consummated the marriage when we hadn’t.”
His eyes bored into her. “What are you saying?”
She stared at a point over his shoulder, took a deep breath and said, “I think perhaps we should consummate it.”
One dark brow rose. “For the sake of the chess maneuver?”
“Yes.” She was on firmer ground here. It was just a matter of legalities, not anything that she needed, or that made her ache and yearn. She was simply offering to do her duty. Dispassionately.
“Because you wouldn’t want to lie.”
“That’s right.”
“So, Princess, are you saying you wish to consummate this marriage?” he asked softly.
She swallowed and nodded. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”
