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“Oh, you mustn’t worry about that,” she told him earnestly. “I would give you more chances.”

John drew his head back to look down at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s very kind of you, cariad.” He continued to unfasten buttons until the brocade had parted to reveal the front of her body. She heard him draw a ragged breath. “Ah, what a beauty you are. You put the sun to shame.” Reverently he reached inside the open garment to stroke her midriff with the backs of his fingers. “Let me see all of you . . . let me . . .”

He nudged the wrapper off her shoulders, and it slid to the floor with a rich thwack.

Gooseflesh rose all over. Was this really her, standing in front of a man without a stitch on? She wanted to wilt with embarrassment—but at the same time, there was a squirmy, potent sort of pleasure in being so revealed.

“Reina . . .” He gathered her in a full-bodied embrace.“Dw i’n dy garu di.”

“What does that mean?”

“I love you. Except . . . it’s a bit different in Welsh. Dw i’n means ‘I am,’ as in ‘I am loving you, here and now.’ ” His palm slid gently over the curve of her hip. “Dy and di are both words for ‘you.’ ”

“Why do you say it twice?”

“I don’t think I could explain the grammar of it. But the word ‘you’ is said before ‘love,’ and again right after it.” He bent to nuzzle her throat. “It lends extra meaning to the words . . . something like . . .” He paused, considering how to translate. “ ‘You are the place where my love resides.’ ”

The words humbled Reina and brought the ache of tears. “I want to learn how to say it.”

But somewhere in the middle of teaching her the syllables, he started kissing her again. It became a conversation without words, a language of soft and fluent pressures . . . of tender syllables shaped by lips, teeth, tongue. Long, eloquent kisses . . . gentle bites and licks and flirts of kisses.

All the usual processes of her brain had come to a halt. Now she was occupied only with sensations. Cool white linen beneath her . . . the touch of a draft on her back and naked hip. Movement through veils of shadow . . . the rustle of trousers being unfastened and discarded . . . the feeling of being held against a man’s naked body for the first time. Heat, hardness, taut skin, silky-coarse hair . . . the wonderful male scent of him.

Nothing existed outside this room, this bed. She had been divested of all that was safe and civilized, every last ribbon and hairpin. Whether this act brought her satisfaction or harm, joy or shame, it was all up to this man. She couldn’t believe she’d made herself so vulnerable.

But it was impossible to worry, with his mouth and hands roaming over her. Impossible to think at all, as he slid lower, parting her thighs to caress and play with her . . . not when he kissed her there . . . and there . . . licking at every throb and twitch. His fingertip pressed at the entrance of her body, wriggling inward, while his restless tongue teased her into rich spasms. She could only breathe in sobs as the sensation kept rolling up to her, over and over, tumbling her in a rough tide of release.

Later, there would be embarrassment. She knew that. Absolutely fatal wholesale mortification. But at the moment, it felt too good to care.

John moved over her and braced up on his forearms to keep from pressing his full weight on her. “Reina, my heart,” he whispered, “the next part will be uncomfortable for you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I can’t abide the thought of hurting you.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms and legs around him. Her face turned into his neck and she nipped at his hot, salty skin. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I have no intention of leaving this bed a virgin.”

An unsteady laugh escaped him as he felt her tongue and the edge of her teeth. “Duw annwyl,” he muttered. “I may not survive this night.” Ardently he kissed her, settling deeper into the cradle of her thighs. He took forever to enter her, coaxing and courting his way past all boundaries until finally, finally he was inside her, in a luxurious full possession that afforded her more pleasure than pain. Gradually he began a deep, deliberate rhythm, making it last as long as possible until release overtook him.

He withdrew with a gasp, crushing the searing throbs and spasms of release between their bodies, and buried his face amid the loose locks of her hair. There was a slide of heat against her stomach, while a violent tremor ran through his large frame.

Reina held him tenderly, suffused with shy delight in having brought him to such a state.

“I’m sorry to have hurt you, cariad,” John said as soon as he’d caught his breath. He propped himself on his forearms to look down at her with concern.

“Oh, it was only at first. You were so gentle.”

“You’ll be sore tomorrow.”

“Good,” she said. “Otherwise I might not believe it happened.”

John cradled the side of her face in his hand, kissed her, and left the bed. In a moment he returned with a cool, damp cloth to wipe her body carefully. A quiet sound of amusement escaped him. “Even in the dark, love, I can see you blushing.”

Reina reached awkwardly for the cloth. “I can do that for myself—”

“Aye, I know. But let me take care of you, after the joy you’ve just given me.”

She smiled up at him uncertainly. “It was pleasing to you?”