“Why?”
Because he’d meant his vows. Because he wanted to be her husband. Because he spent a great deal of time in a world where nothing was quite what it seemed to be. Because he didn’t want his marriage to be a sham. “The Marquess of Shepherdston is one of my oldest and dearest friends. He loaned us his house for our honeymoon, and his staff believes we’re here to consummate our marriage. And I would prefer not to disabuse them of the idea.”
He took the towel off his shoulder and tossed it on the foot of the bed. “I know you’re not an innocent, but don’t forget that I behaved like a husband and a gentleman and warned you,” Colin told her as he casually unfastened his pants and pushed them down over his slim hips.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Gillian opened her mouth to protest, but no words of protest came to mind. All she could think of was how magnificent he was. She had never seen a man completely naked. And never like this. Standing tall and fully erect. Gillian stared. He was beautiful. His wide shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, slim hips, and long strong legs. His chest was covered with curly blond hair that also tapered down into a long, slim line that encircled his navel and pointed to the hard erection jutting from another thatch of curly blond hair. He was big. He was all male. He was completely aroused.
And all mine.
That thought came unbidden. Gillian tried to shut it out, but there was no shutting out the sight of him or the effect it was having on her. She was flushed and hot and damp and swollen in places she couldn’t name. And all because he was standing there, looking back at her with that look in his green eyes.
“Is it me? Or haven’t you ever seen a naked man before?” Colin asked, genuinely surprised and more than a bit pleased by the awed expression on her face.
“It’s both,” she whispered.
“But you eloped with a man,” he said. “You gave every sign of knowing what to expect. Of having a certain amount of experience…”
“Signs can be deceiving,” she reminded him.
Colin frowned. “Were they wrong? Your father and the Bow Street runner?” He raked his lingers through his damp hair. “Is it possible he left you an innocent?”
Gillian shook her head. “They weren’t wrong. But it was always dark. I never saw him completely unclothed.”
“Bloody hell!” Colin reached for the towel he had tossed aside.
“No, don’t!”
Colin halted.
“I like looking at you.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. Colin’s erection responded to her words and her gesture by becoming harder and even more prominent.
“I’m gratified to hear it,” he told her. “That bodes well for our future. But not, I’m afraid, our immediate future. For if I’m not mistaken, we’re about to have company.” Colin slipped into bed beside her as a knock sounded on the bedroom door. “They’re coming to light the fire and deliver breakfast.”
Gillian groaned. “How did you know?”
“I heard them coming up the stairs,” he answered. “And I smelled the coffee and the chocolate.”
Gillian sniffed, but all she could smell was the scent of sandalwood shaving soap and the clean fragrance she’d come to associate with Colin.
The knock sounded again.
“One moment.” Colin turned to Gillian. “Do you have a dressing gown?”
“At the foot of the bed,” she answered.
Colin leaned forward, grabbed the garment, and frowned. “This won’t cover anything.”
“It matches my night—” Gillian broke off and looked down at her silk nightgown. “Oh, good heavens!” She looked up at Colin. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Colin winked at her. “I was tempted to say something.” He stared down at her long, shapely legs exposed to his view. “But I was equally tempted by the view. I admit to being partial to your long, lovely legs.”
“And to think my mother packed this for me to wear.”
“Thank heavens for mothers.” Colin breathed the prayer. “Yours in particular, for she has excellent taste in night wear and didn’t seem particularly worried about you catching cold or suffering a bout of shyness.” He gave her his most charmingly boyish grin. “Not to worry. I’ll protect you.”
“From the maids?” Gillian asked. “I’m sure they’ve seen ladies in silk nightgowns before.”
“The maids probably have,” Colin agreed, flipping back the covers and walking around to the other side of the bed. “But the footmen haven’t. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Footmen?”
Colin nodded. “Shepherdston Hall is a male household, and Pomfrey assigns the early morning chores to the footmen to prevent the maids from being underfoot during Lord Shepherdston’s and my toilette.”
Gillian stared in wonder as he treated her to an exquisite view of his nicely muscled legs and firm buttocks. She thought he was going to answer the door in all his male glory, but Colin climbed into bed. He lay on his side, the bedclothes draped across his hip as he propped himself on his forearm. He had placed himself between Gillian and the outer door and used his body to shield her from view.
“Now,” he instructed, reaching behind him to pull the covers over her. “Scoot down and cuddle close, and they won’t even know you’re here.”
“Where do you suppose they’ll think I’ve gone?” she asked a bit waspishly.
“Shhh.” Her words were muffled and Colin fought to keep from laughing at her show of irritation.
But Gillian wasn’t easily muffled. “There are only two beds in this suite, and you’re in mine.”
“Enter!” Colin called.
The sound of china and silver clattering against a tray sounded on the stairs, then the door opened, and a footman entered. “Good morning, sir. Cook sent your breakfast. Where would you like it?”
Colin motioned toward the small table by the fireplace. “The table will be fine.”
The footman carried the tray over to the table and set it down, then bent to light the fire in the fireplace. When he had the fire going, he turned back to Colin. “Shall I pour you a cup of coffee, sir?”
“Yes, thank you,” Colin said.
“And chocolate,” Gillian whispered from beneath the covers.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” The footman lifted the coffeepot and poured Colin a cup.
“Would you be so kind as to pour a cup of chocolate as well?” Colin asked.
“Of course, sir.” The footman lifted the chocolate pot, filled a cup with steaming hot chocolate, and set it beside the cup of coffee. “Do you require anything else, Lord Grantham?”
“No,” Colin said. “Nothing—”
“A hot bath!” Gillian hissed, pressing close enough to make herself heard.
Colin felt the twin points of her breasts pressing into his back, felt her slim thighs beneath his, and fought to remember his promise, fought to keep from rolling over and making her his.
“Colin!” she hissed, again.
“And a hot bath,” Colin blurted.
“Was your first bath this morning not to your liking, sir?”
Gillian smothered a giggle against his shoulder blade.
If the footman noticed the shaking bedclothes, he was too well schooled to show any signs of it.
“My bath was fine,” Colin told him. “But I feel certain that my bride will want a hot bath as soon as she rises.”
“Yes, of course, sir.” The footman looked at Colin. “We’ll begin preparations right away.”
“Heat the water,” Colin told him. “I’ll ring when she’s ready for it.”
“Yes, sir,” the footman said. “Shall I bring you your coffee before it gets cold, sir?”
“No,” Colin said. “Thank you.”
The footman bowed. “You’re welcome, sir, and felicitations to you and to Lady Grantham on the occasion of your nuptials.”
“Thank you.”
“Very good, sir.” The footman turned and left the room.
�
�Is he gone?” Gillian propped herself on her elbow and peeked out from beneath the coverlet.
“He’s gone,” Colin confirmed, shifting his weight and rolling from his side to his back. He looked up at her. “Now, where were we?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Where were we?”
Colin grinned up at her. “You were telling me you liked looking at me,” he reminded her. “And I was about to kiss you good morning.”
“Is that where we were?”
“Aye.” The one word was a deep, rumbling Scottish burr. She leaned closer.
“If you’re willing,” he continued in that same deep, rumbling burr.
Gillian was mesmerized by the expression on his face and in his eyes. “Willing to do what, my lord?”
“Willing to let me choose the time and place.”
She nodded.
His voice quavered a bit when he met her gaze. “I need to hear you say it, Gillian.”
“I’m willing,” she said softly.
“Good.” Colin rolled Gillian onto her back, then closed the distance between them, kissing first her lips, then her cheeks and chin and eyelids. He tangled his fingers in her hair and tilted her chin up so that he could kiss the soft spot beneath her ear.
Gillian shivered beneath his touch, tilting her chin even higher to allow him better access to her neck and chest. Colin took full advantage. He used his tongue to trace the flesh visible above the neck of her nightgown. He sat back on his heels, then reached down and untied the neat satin bow at the neck of her white silk nightgown, and worked the tiny pearl buttons loose from their tiny loops.
He opened her bodice and spread the sides wide so he could feast on the sight of Gillian’s rounded breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed.
Gillian recognized the look of admiration in Colin’s warm green eyes and knew that he meant it.
He leaned forward, cupped one smooth, satiny globe in his hand, and touched his lips to the dark center.
Gillian sucked in a breath at the wonderful sensation his tiny kiss evoked. Desire gripped her. Eager for more, Gillian reached up and threaded her fingers in Colin’s thick blond hair and held his head to her breasts. “Again,” she ordered.
Colin obeyed, touching and tasting, and gently nipped at the hard bud with his teeth. And then he suckled her, and Gillian thought she might die of the pleasure, as her nerve endings became gloriously alive and sent tiny electrical currents throughout her body, igniting her responses.
“Touch me,” he said. “Please.”
“Where?” she whispered. “How?”
Colin took her hand and guided it between their bodies to the place he wanted it most. “Here.”
She gripped him, and the feel of his flesh beneath her hand surprised her. He was hard, yet velvety soft, and the contrast intrigued her. She stroked him experimentally. Colin quivered with pleasure and came very close to spilling himself in her hand as Gillian stroked him without shyness but with a tender touch that brought a lump to Colin’s throat.
“We must stop.” He reached between them and grabbed hold of her wrist to stop the exquisite torture before he spilled himself in her hand.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Not at all,” he groaned. “But I’m incredibly aroused, and I don’t want to rob you of your pleasure by reaching satisfaction too soon.”
“My pleasure?” Gillian repeated the question as if she didn’t understand, the concept. “This is the most pleasure I’ve ever felt.”
“Oh, my sweet, someone has been very remiss in your education.” Colin’s focus automatically shifted from reaching his satisfaction to making certain Gillian found hers. “I’ve always believed most men are fools when it comes to pleasing their lovers,” Colin told her. “And it seems your Colin Fox was no exception. What the bloody hell did he do?”
He meant it as a rhetorical question, but to his surprise, Gillian took a deep breath and answered. “He left me alone at an inn in Scotland. I had never been away from my parents before. I was afraid. So I stood watch at the window.”
“When?”
“After he left.” She wouldn’t say his name. “I watched and waited for his return day after day at the window of the inn where he’d left me. Even after I knew in my heart that he wasn’t coming back.”
Colin reached over and covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry.”
Gillian shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve no reason to be sorry,” she said. “You had nothing to do with it.”
“I’m sorry because he hurt you. And I’m sorry he used my name to do it.”
“Your name isn’t Colin Fox.” She spoke the name aloud for the first time in days. And she realized that it was just a name. A name that no longer had the power to hurt her. A name that no longer had the power to tie her insides into knots or to cause her shame or haunt her memories.
Colin chuckled. “You would be surprised at the number of people who only know me as Colin Fox.”
“It’s a shame I wasn’t one of them,” Gillian replied jokingly. “I was already Mrs. Colin Fox. We could have forgone the embarrassing interview with my father, the contract negotiations, and the wedding ceremony, and just got on with the honeymoon.” Gillian blushed when she recognized the look in his eyes and realized what she’d said. “I...um...”
“There is that,” he said. “But if we had forgone the ceremony, you might have had to forgo the betrothal ring you like so much.”
Gillian stared down at her precious pink sapphire. “I would have hated having to forgo this.”
“The ring or the lovemaking?” He leaned down and kissed her gently.
“Well,” she teased, “until a few minutes ago, I had more reason to appreciate my betrothal ring than I did lovemaking.”
Colin shrugged his shoulders and gave her a boyish smile. “I hope we’ve managed to challenge that point of view.” He caressed her breasts, massaging first one and then the other.
“I didn’t like it,” she murmured so softly Colin couldn’t be sure he heard her correctly.
Colin stopped caressing her and leaned closer. “What didn’t you like?”
“It,” she reiterated. “Lovemaking.”
Of all the things she could have said, that was the one thing Colin never expected. “You don’t like lovemaking?”
“No.”
Colin raised his eyebrow. “Normally, that wouldn’t bode well for our marriage,” he told her. “But fortunately, we both have a natural aptitude for lovemaking, and your opinion is about to change.”
Gillian glanced at him from beneath the cover of her eyelashes. “Is it?”
“Indeed,” he promised. “There are women who enjoy lovemaking, my sweet, and you’re about to become one of them.”
“How can you be so certain?” Gillian asked. “Because I find it hard to believe that any woman could enjoy something so embarrassing and painful and messy.”
Colin gave her a tender smile. “Have I done anything this morning that’s caused you pain or embarrassment?”
“Not yet,” she admitted.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he teased.
“I have faith,” Gillian told him, “that the morning is still young.”
Colin leaned down and kissed her again.
And his kiss was hot and sweet enough to tempt an angel. But Gillian wasn’t an angel, and she didn’t need temptation. She pulled Colin down to her until she could press herself against him. She flattened herself against his chest, feeling the heat of his flesh as she deepened the kiss. The twin points of her breasts pressed into him, and Colin groaned.
Encouraged by his response, Gillian allowed her hands to roam over his shoulders and down his back. Colin groaned again. His tongue mated with hers as he showed her what he wanted. Gillian continued her exploration. She moved her hands lower until she reached the tight, smooth skin of his buttocks. His muscles bunched and rippled under her hands as Colin held her tightly, half-lifting her off the bed as he ground
his hips into hers and rubbed his throbbing erection against her. He pulled his mouth away from hers and began to trail hot, wet kisses on her face, her neck, her throat, and over to her earlobes.
“Didn’t you ever get beyond the embarrassment and the pain?” he whispered, before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.
Gillian shook her head.
“Then I’m doubly sorry he hurt you using my name.” Colin brushed his lips against her forehead and then her eyelids in the softest of touches. “Because Colin Fox—whomever he is—is a fool.” He looked down at her face. “Was there anything you enjoyed?”
She shook her head once again.
“You eloped with the man, Gillian,” Colin reminded her. “You must have like something about him. Something he did...”
“He kissed me,” she said. “I liked it. And the way he looked at me. And the way he spoke to me before ...” She buried her face in the crook of Colin’s neck. “Afterward...after he...after the first time we...he changed. He didn’t kiss me anymore or talk to me. He would just tell me it was time for bed, and I would lie there with my eyes closed, praying he would hurry so it wouldn’t hurt anymore.” She pulled back so she could look Colin in the eyes. “I was frightened when he left me alone at the inn, but I was also grateful that I didn’t have to do it anymore.”
Colin breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t her. It was him. The idiot masquerading as Colin Fox hadn’t introduced Gillian to the wonders of the bedchamber, he’d taken her without consideration or preliminaries. “You were an innocent and a romantic,” he said. “You like being kissed and held and told you’re beautiful.” He stopped and looked down at her. “Have I told you you’re beautiful?”
Gillian shook her head.
“Because you are,” Colin continued. “And you like feeling loved and special. He recognized that and preyed upon it because he enjoys the chase. But once the bugger got what he wanted from you, the excitement of the chase was over for him.”
Gillian thought of the night Galahad had slept beside her. “I liked touching,” she whispered. “I liked being held at night and knowing I wasn’t alone anymore. I know it sounds silly, but I liked sleeping beside someone.”
“I’m perfectly willing to share a bed for the purpose of sleeping and touching and kissing and talking.” Colin named the things she’d said she liked. It would be sheer torture for him if that were all she allowed him to do, but he would suffer if that’s what it took to show her he could be trusted. “And if you get tired of that,” he said with a wink, “we can always make love. If you feel so inclined.”