But even as she argued with herself, she got down on her knees with the man beside her and prayed for the blessing of God. One by one they pledged their troths with subdued voices—if the bride’s voice was trembling, nervous and strained, no one would remark on it. The lean, well-manicured hands held her gaze as he slipped the wedding band on her finger. His closeness was overwhelming, as was the tangy, masculine scent of his cologne.
And then the priest pronounced them married. Again they bowed their heads before him, and then as Christina rose on shaking limbs, feeling as if she were dragging herself out of quicksand, she heard him say,
‘I believe it is customary for the groom to kiss the bride.’
‘I believe it is,’ Simon uttered softly, turning to his bride.
Her knees were weak and her insides shaky, but as he took her hand, Christina would rather die than give him an inkling of how she felt. His long, lean fingers gently cupped the delicate bones of her jaw, while his other arm slid behind her back under the loose-flowing train. Suddenly all the things she held against him rose up to taunt her. Just the thought of those things were enough to hurt, but as he lowered his head and his mouth hovered so close to her own that she could feel his warm breath on her flesh, suddenly she wanted him to kiss her. Heaven help her, she did. She was a fool. Damn him for doing this to her. Damn herself, for this time she could not even summon the will to turn her face away.
Her heart began to drum in her chest as he parted her lips with his own, a lush, full openness that tasted her and enabled her to taste him. Even with everyone looking on, she wondered how anything as simple as this could bring so much pleasure. But despite this feeling, Simon felt no response from her. She did not move or kiss him back. Instead, she remained rigid and still.
In that first minute of their married life, the last thing Simon wanted from her was resistance, and he knew he would need to entice her if he were to savour this delight in their marital bed. Kissing could be the prelude to all the delicious imaginings in his mind. The implications of his imaginings and having known the reality of making love to her had tantalised him unmercifully ever since he had left her that day in the chamber at Oakbridge.
Now, much as he wanted to deepen his kiss and forget about those present, he reminded himself that he was a gentleman, something that had never been this difficult to remember, and when he felt her lips tremble and soften, the first response to the featherlight caress of his tongue against her mouth, he managed to let go of her.
Taking her hand, he turned her to face her relatives, and, bending close to her ear, he murmured, ‘Come. Everyone is waiting to congratulate us. There will be time for kissing later.’
At last Christina felt that she could breathe. Her quivering mouth burned from his blistering kiss, and her heart still had not slowed its rhythm. But she managed to smile tremulously as William and Aunt Celia came to congratulate them.
* * *
Afterwards, at Celia’s house where the wedding breakfast was held and where they were to stay before leaving for Oakbridge in a few days’ time with William and Miranda, Christina accepted the good wishes of those present, feeling like she was being assaulted on all sides as everyone sang her husband’s praises. There was a good deal of laughter. Glasses were raised to one another, toasting whatever took their fancy. Christina looked on with indignation. Married but a few hours and Simon was winning over everyone—but her. Always, thoughts of her wedding night were not far away, and she was tempted to retire early and feign sleep.
She looked on it with dread. But then why should she, for what woman would not want to take Simon Rockley to bed? From the very beginning she had thought him a handsome man and his practised charm and lovemaking, even when he’d taken her in anger, had seemed to melt her very bones.
But a wedding night meant a complete giving of herself, which was not what she wanted to offer at this time, even though he had already taken her virtue. How could she surrender to him, when he had compromised her into this marriage?
Simon watched Christina through the celebration, his mind very much on his young bride. She spoke little and held herself back, as if she hoped he wouldn’t notice her. Didn’t she know that he noticed everything about her? Never had he felt for any other woman what he felt for her, that he could not imagine his life without her. He wanted her to feel the same way towards him. But her fears and doubts and mistrusts were strong, and he knew it would take much to overcome them.
* * *
When the festivities were over and the guests had gone, the fires damped down and the lamps turned low, when Christina had left him to finish his brandy, it took all of his control to allow her time to get ready for bed. Then he set down his glass and rose to his feet.
Alone in her room to await her husband, Christina made up her mind that she would not grant him his manly pleasures this night. When he had spoken of respect within marriage, she decided he would have to earn her respect. Attired in a delicate white nightdress, she drew on a thick velvet robe as if donning armour for battle.
She didn’t have long to wait for Simon to come to her. He entered without knocking, closing the door firmly behind him. He had not expected to find her in bed waiting for him, and she wasn’t. She sat in a large armchair beside the fire, her eyes watching him steadily, her face expressionless.
Slowly he made his way to where she sat, the sight of her in the flickering radiance of the candles almost taking his breath. Her long fair hair that tumbled in soft, glorious disarray about her slender shoulders created a vision beyond compare. His eyes swept over her in a lingering caress, evoking a blush that left her cheeks almost as rosy as her velvet robe.
He stopped before her, looking down at her upturned face. ‘I’m happy to see you have not got into bed and gone to sleep.’
‘I confess to having considered it.’
His face hardened. ‘Then what stopped you?’
She stood up and faced him, hands on her hips like some avenging angel, knowing she was goading him too much, that he was a man of immense pride, but caring nothing for it. ‘I wanted to be fully awake when I told you that you are not welcome in my bed and that I would like you to find somewhere else to sleep.’
‘I see. And how do you expect us to begin our married life together if we are sleeping apart?’
‘You have not yet earned my respect,’ she said firmly.
‘I will, but until then,’ he said, taking hold of her arms and pulling her towards him, ‘you are still my wife. I will have no one suggesting we are not legally married.’
‘No one would do that. I think that in view of all that has happened, I’d prefer our marriage to be in name only, until a better understanding is reached between us.’ She glanced at him. He was looking at her, a strange, enigmatic expression in his eyes.
‘Our child is already on its way, Christina. What better understanding than that can there be for us to begin married life. One point I will make. Had I been opposed to marrying you, no man on earth could have forced me entirely against my will. I would have rotted in prison first. When you told me about the child, I spoke in anger to you. I accused you of terrible things and denied myself what I desired most. Call it my damnable pride, for in truth I sought to hurt you and avenge myself for things you were not guilty of. As it turned out, the revenge was not mine, but yours. So now I am through playing games in which I am the loser. I will have my due, Christina.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘It is not my intention to take you by force, for I do not want that kind of relationship, but nor will I play the monk. I will not live under the same roof with you never finding pleasure in you. I hardly think you will find me lacking in a husband’s duties, as it will be my pleasure—and yours—to discover.’
Duties, Christina thought miserably. Was that all it meant to him—all the passion, the glorious sensations he awoke in her that made her delirious with pleasure when he made love to her?
‘I know if I allow you to esca
pe our bed tonight, tomorrow you will be in full retreat. We will share the same bed tonight and every night, whether we will be intimate or not.’
He removed his coat and walked towards the dressing room. ‘I’ll go and make myself ready for bed. When I return, I want to find you in bed.’
Christina was stunned and as the door closed behind him, a fierce rage flared within her. How dare he think that he could command her to get into bed with him? She was no longer the naïve young girl he had taken on the floor without the comfort of a bed. But the idea of being with him again excited her traitorous mind.
Sitting in the chair she was still for several moments, deep in thought. She remembered how it had been between them, how it had felt to have his lips on hers, on her breasts, his hands upon her naked flesh. Why was she making it difficult for them both? she asked herself. Was this not what she yearned for? Was she going to let her pride tear them apart?
Before she had time to answer her own question, Simon came back in, wearing a dressing robe. Suddenly she was filled with apprehension and her heart beat faster as, without a word, he crossed to where she sat, his manner purposeful. Taking her hand he raised her up, and she found herself standing willingly, his hands loosening the robe at her neck. Christina saw his eyes flare with heat when they took in her delicate nightdress, its simplicity clinging to her body like a second skin, teasing him, and she felt as if she were offering him a gift. His eyes swept her body in one long, passionate caress. Her breath caught in her throat at the promise and the heat of his touch when his hand caressed her cheek, then moved slowly downwards, drifting down over her collarbone and settling between her breasts.
Conscious of nothing but their heavy breathing, she did not resist. With one hand he cupped her breast that was pressing against the fabric, luring him with its eagerness to be set free. Smiling slightly as he saw the passion in her eyes, he slipped the shoulders of her nightdress down over her arms, releasing the soft orbs from their confinement. Bending his head, he placed his lips against her skin, warm and silky smooth against his mouth. And then he lifted her and carried her to the bed.
Placing her on the bed, he removed his robe, and even as he dispensed with that and his body was exposed in all its power, its strength and thrilling perfection, the evidence of his desire for her made her realise how much he truly wanted her. Laughing softly in his throat, Simon stretched out alongside her, facing her.
His gaze swept over her unbridled charms from head to toe. He was dazzled by her youthful beauty, and the glorious mass of her hair spread out over her shoulders and covering the bed behind her. Her ivory skin glowed softly in the candlelight, and by the golden flames he saw her breasts were generously and temptingly swelling, rising and falling slowly with her breathing. Slipping his arm about her narrow waist, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with passion, engulfing her in a heady scent of brandy and cologne.
At first Christina almost recoiled with surprise at the warmth and passion he displayed. Then his mouth left hers and his lips trailed down her neck. And his long, heated body moved over hers. He seemed to luxuriate in the moment, so intimate, so tender it was, his lips finding hers once more, his kiss full, inviting and without reserve. As if her traitorous body were no longer her own, she slid her arms about his neck, and he drew her night dress up and over her head. She found herself pressing her soft breasts into the mat of hair that covered his chest. And then the hot flame of heat that reached to her very core enveloped her, consuming her so that she no longer felt herself.
At first he did not rush, but savoured each passing moment of pleasure, and in that time, a strange new budding ecstasy began to bloom and grow within Christina. She moaned and cried out at the exquisite pleasure and was not even aware of the precise moment she began to move and undulate her hips against his as he took her lips in another overwhelming kiss.
Having hungered and desired her for so long, Simon’s long-starved passions grew until he was beyond himself, beyond reason, and he could only give in to the need of the moment. The intensity of their passion consumed them both and they forgot themselves as it mounted, each thrust forceful and hard. Lips and bodies were merged in a heated fusion that touched to the depths of their souls. Christina’s cries were of pleasure as her world tore itself free of restraint and soared on to almost unbearable joy. They were two beings blended together in a whirling storm of passion. And then there was trembling release, the climax sweeping over Christina with a power she had thought unimaginable.
The storm at its end, a long quiet moment slipped past as everything drifted back into place. Simon lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at his wife. Her face was gently flushed, her brow wet with perspiration, her eyes large and dark and slumberous. When he withdrew and rolled off of her and tried to gather her in his arms, as her mind came back from the far-flung ends of the universe, she moved away from him.
Simon rose and for a moment stared at her back, bewildered by this turn of events. His eyes coursed slowly over her body, and he could not but admire the well-turned hips and graceful thighs that had, a moment before, been his. ‘Christina?’ Reaching out, he placed his hand on her shoulder, but she refused his comfort.
‘Leave me be.’ Pulling a cover over her nakedness, she turned her face into the pillow so that if he looked he would not see her. Tears filled her eyes. She felt betrayed by her own body, for the pleasure it had taken in their lovemaking. It had been just like that other time, when she had lost all control, when she couldn’t help herself, when she was driven by her desire.
How could he have been so cruel as to condemn her to a life with a man who did not love her? Yet in her heart she bore him tender feelings, feelings that had steadily grown, even as they were damaged by disappointment and confusion. Ever since that day at the Black Swan Inn, she had tried to close her heart to falling in love with him, but now she realised that she no longer had a choice in the matter. The one small salve to her pride was that she had not told him that she loved him, for love him she did, deeply, completely, and she thanked God she hadn’t told him, for that would be the final humiliation. Her slender shoulders quivered with her quiet sobs. After a while they finally ceased and sleep came in their stead. But it was not an untroubled sleep—more like an exhausted one.
Simon reached out and gently arranged the cover around her. On a sigh he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake in taking her to bed. It wasn’t that his lust had overcome his good sense, he had to make this marriage work, and he would not give up on his bride.
Snuffing out the candles at the side of the bed, he stretched out beside her, and his last thoughts as he fell into a sleep of his own was of her sweet-scented perfume and the warmth of her body close to his own.
* * *
It was during the early hours that Simon snaked his arm beneath the covers and round her waist, wishing to fit his body into the curve of her.
‘Kindly remove your hand,’ she cried, fully awake. ‘If you don’t, I swear, I shall find somewhere else to sleep.’ Then she threw back the covers and got out of bed, making a grab for her robe and wrapping it around her naked body.
Surprised, Simon rose up in bed and looked at her wearily. ‘I have no intention of hurting you, Christina. But your sharp tongue does rouse my ire, so be warned. If you continue in this vein, I have other ways to make you miserable.’
Christina looked at him, her eyes sad and uncertain, and her mouth quivered. Seeing her fear and distress, Simon let loose a curse and adjusted his pillows.
‘For God’s sake, woman, come back to bed. Yesterday was a long day and tonight I intend to get my rest.’
Christina’s eyes snapped to him as anger replaced her fear. How dare he suggest she lie beside him now? She was not without some pride. Though there were still tears in her eyes she held her chin defiantly high. Going to the bed, she dragged a pillow and a quilt from it and took them to the sofa close to the window. Simon, with
a raised eyebrow, watched her stonily as she spread them over the upholstery.
‘Do you intend to sleep there?’ he enquired with disbelief.
‘Yes,’ she replied. She settled down against the pillow and pulled the quilt about her.
‘It’s hardly a fit place for a pregnant lady to spend the night,’ he informed her. ‘There is a cold draught from the window. You’ll get no comfort there.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage,’ she said.
Simon swore under his breath and settled back among the pillows. He stared at her. She shuffled beneath the quilt to get comfortable, and for a moment he thought she would fall on to the floor. He chuckled, despite himself, and from across the room she glowered at him and snatched the quilt tighter about her. Eventually she achieved some security, but she was anything but comfortable.
Simon watched her for a long time before finally lying down. He was aware of the empty space where she had slept, and he suddenly realised that he was going to miss her and her body’s heat beside him. Raising his head, his voice was angry when he spoke. ‘Christina, there’s precious little heat in bed, so I can only imagine how cold you must be over there. I suggest we combine ours in bed together.’
She covered her prim nose and settled down. ‘I am quite comfortable where I am.’
Simon drew the covers up about his head. ‘Well, then,’ he retorted, ‘I am sure you and the cold draught will find ample companionship on that hard couch. I will not beg you again to join me. When you have had enough of playing games, just let me know and I will make room for you.’
Christina seethed on her uncomfortable bed and huddled deeper into the quilt as the cold began to seep through and she shivered violently. Already she regretted her actions, but she would freeze to death before she’d crawl back into his bed and let him mock her.
The Bride Wore Scandal Page 22
