Her courage seemed to evaporate with the light, and shehesitated by the table, her fingers gripping the smooth edge. The last timethey had shared a bed was—
Leila inclined her head slightly at the sound of Guyclimbing beneath the covers, her cheeks growing as hot as the tingling flushracing through her body. Oh dear . . . oh dear.
"Leila?
She inhaled sharply, saying nothing.
"Leila, come to bed."
She wanted desperately to flee, but knew he would catchher easily before she even reached the door. And that game of cat and mousemight only fire his lust. Perhaps if she simply went to bed, she would find himas tired as he said he was. Ithadbeen a very long day.
Leila moved silently to the curtains, her hands shakingas she reached up and drew them aside. Soft, golden light from an oil lampburning on an opposite table illuminated the bed and the reclining giant whosedeep blue eyes caught and held hers.
"I was beginning to think I might have to come outand get you, my love."
Oh, why did he have to call her that? Leila wondereduncomfortably, stunned by the virile picture Guy made. Why did he have to looklike any woman's wildest fantasy come to life?
Guy was leaning against a brace of pillows with thecovers thrown over his hips, his skin showing dark against the white sheets. Bysome trick of shadow and light, the muscles banding his chest and stomach wereaccentuated to perfection, and his arms looked supremely powerful even at rest.His long hair was swept back from his forehead, brushing shoulders that werewide and immense, the right one marred by a long, raised scar. Below it, hismassive bicep was encircled by a bandage that showed a streak of blood.
"I should look at your arm again," she saidwithout thinking, her instinctive concern honed by years of training.
"My arm is fine, Leila. Come. The room grows cold.You will catch a chill standing there."
She saw the hand he offered her, but she nervouslychose to ignore it as she swiftly climbed into the bed and lay down with herback to him. Pulling the covers up to her ear, she settled herself as close aspossible to the edge of the mattress, so close, in fact, that if she moved anyfarther she would tumble to the floor.
Guy had to stifle the chuckle welling deep in hischest.
"If you plan on sleeping like that tonight, Leila,I would take care not to dangle your arm over the side. Lady Eleanor wastelling me last night that they're having a terrible problem with mice in thepalace . . . maybe even rats."
Leila rolled over, her eyes wide. "Rats?"
Guy nodded gravely, feeling that same chuckle trying toforce itself from his throat. But he sobered when she seemed equally disturbedabout the yawning space between them. She glanced uncertainly from the bed tohim.
SweetJesu, why did she fearhim so? Or was it more a fear of the desire he had seen smoldering in her eyeswhen she opened the curtains . . . desire she was still fighting?
He was gratified when she suddenly slid closer to hisside of the bed, though she maintained a foot's distance between them andturned her back to him again.
"Good night, my lord."
No, my reluctant love, the time to sleep is not yet,Guy thought resolutely. He rolled onto his side and swept her against his bodyin one fluid motion.
Leila gasped and stiffened, but to his surprise she didnot struggle. "You—you said you were tired. What are you doing?" shedemanded, peering at him over her shoulder.
"Is there anything wrong with a man holding hislovely new wife?" Guy countered with a slight smile.
Leila wanted to scream out a resounding "Yes!"but instead she decided it would be best not to resist him. If she lay verystill and very quiet, surely he would soon fall asleep, thinking she was doingthe same. "I suppose not."
She drew in her breath sharply as his large hand slidslowly down the side of her body, stopping at her thigh. He had said holding,not caressing! But when his hand rested there, she relaxed somewhat and feigneda wide yawn for his benefit. She hoped that now that Guy was comfortable, hewould leave her in peace.
Leila closed her eyes and snuggled her cheek almostdefiantly into the pillow. As for herself, comfortable she was not. Every fiberof her being was alive to the heady warmth of his skin burning through hernightrail. The hard planes and contours of his body weremolded against her in a most disturbing way: his chest and taut belly pressedinto her back, his lean hips melded to hers, a rigid swelling against herbottom . . .
Leila's eyes flew open and she tried to lunge away fromhim, even as his arm clamped tightly around her waist, holding her captive.
"No! Release me this instant," she exclaimed.She struggled hard now, fearing the import of his arousal. "You lied tome! You led me to believe you wanted to sleep, not to . . . to . . ." Shecould not bring herself to say it.
"Shhh, Leila, do notfight me," Guy murmured, his warm breath finding a ticklish place beneathher earlobe. "I have not deceived you. You have deceived only yourself.Surely you know a man and woman sleep little on their wedding night. There istoo much love to be shared."
"I don't love you!"
