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Her eyes darted up and tracked him as he crossed the space.

Ignoring the churning of his stomach, he slid into the side of the bed she’d left open. Like her, he propped his pillows against the headboard, leaned back, then settled the covers over his lap, hiding his response to what even her skeptical glance did to him. She remained with her knees drawn up.

“I do not find you displeasing to look upon,” she said.

He had to sort through her words to understand she’d said he was not ugly to her. But she was determined to have darkness.

He put a palm on her rounded back. She jerked and the flesh under his hand tightened. If she didn’t relax, it was likely to be a miserable night. And nothing he’d done or said had calmed her, that he could tell.

“Are you very tired?” he asked.

“I’m tired, but I don’t think I could sleep.”

Trying to soothe more than seduce, he rubbed his hand along the side of her spine. “You are far more beautiful than I expected.”

She tensed more.

“I will not hurt you, Selina.” He slid his hand under the weight of her hair. The strands slid across his arm like silk. He kept his movements slow, easy, ignoring the rush of wanting, his pounding heart and hardening body. Desire clawed at him.

He should lie down and tell her that he could wait until she was comfortable with him, but she’d said she wanted to be made a wife tonight. He’d waited so long for her arrival, so very long until he had a wife. Since he’d begun courting her in letters he hadn’t been with anyone else; even though her responses had been months in coming, he hadn’t felt it was right. His body burned now with a need that wouldn’t be easily extinguished. And each time he looked at her, he only wanted her more. Touching her sent sparks flying until he thought he might burn to a cinder if he didn’t make her his.

She twisted and looked at him, her mouth pursed.

To taste that mouth...

She pushed her legs down and slid to the side of the bed. Had he betrayed his lust, the thin thread of his control?

She shoved back the covers and padded to the table. Holding back the curtain of her hair, she bent and blew out the flames.

The room plunged into darkness. Only then did he realize she’d draped dark curtains over the windows that might have let in moonlight.

“Darkness helps,” she said.

No, it didn’t help. Not being able to look into her eyes to gauge her fear put him at a disadvantage. Measuring the cadence of her breathing wouldn’t be enough, not when fear could account for the rapid breathing as much as passion could. Besides, he wanted to see her. What was the point in having a beautiful wife if he couldn’t look upon her? The mattress dipped and swayed. She must have climbed back in the bed. Certainly, he couldn’t see a blessed thing.

She scooted closer and his heart threatened to pound through his chest. Carefully, she leaned back against the pillows next to him.

“Then you don’t want to have a conversation first?”

“I’d just rather you got on with it,” she said, so softly he was certain he had imagined it.

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