want to disappoint her new husband, but really, they’d hardly had a chance to become acquainted within the last few days. No doubt the prince was experienced, with many lovers in his background.
He came to stand behind her, his hands lightly resting on her shoulders, his mouth close to her ear. “Your cloak, Morgana. I don’t believe you need it now. The chamber is quite warm, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course.” She shed her cloak into his waiting hands, letting him set the wrap on a chair. If only she could shed her misgivings as easily. Buffeted by countless anxieties, she turned to face him and forced a smile. Her heart thudded against her ribs. Her knees shook, and she hoped her long dress hid her tremors.
He held a chair for her and gestured toward a wine bottle and glasses on the table. “I asked the innkeeper to leave a bottle of wine for us. Let us sit and have our own private toast to our happiness.”
She slipped into the chair while he poured the wine, then sat opposite her. “‘Twas thoughtful of you, Keir, to have wine waiting for us.” Gods, could she do no better than this? She was trembling inside, agonizing over what was to come, worried that she would disappoint him. They sounded like two actors, rehearsing their lines. The dim light from the fireplace and the candle flame danced around the room, revealing his face in darkness, then in light. One moment, his hair appeared black, the next, its true chestnut hue.
“‘Tis good to get away from the others, don’t you agree? To have this time to ourselves?” Not giving her a chance to reply, he continued. “Now let me tell you a little about my family and my kingdom. I am the oldest, with two sisters and a younger brother, which means I shall inherit the throne. May my father rule forever, for he, and indeed, my whole family, means much to me.” His expression said it all, how dear his family was to him. And in time, would she come to mean much to him, too?
Time sped past as he spoke of his country and its customs and what awaited her in Glennamin. In surprise, Morgana looked at her wine glass and found it empty, a sure indication that Keir had done much to alleviate her uncertainties.
He indicated the empty glass. “Would you like more wine?”
She shook her head. “I fear I’ve had too much to drink already, what with the wine at our wedding feast.” And what will happen now? Would he tear all her clothes off, throw her on the bed, then have his way with her? No, she felt sure he wouldn’t; so far, he’d exhibited only kindness toward her.
She needn’t have worried, she thought later after Keir had extinguished the candles and helped her discard her dress, so that she lay in bed clad only in her shift. By the firelight that flickered in the room, she saw him shed his clothes and slip into bed beside her. She felt the bed shift with his weight and caught his scent of spicy soap. She gave silent thanks to all the gods for the chamber’s dimness, for she had never seen a naked man before.
What would happen next? Her heart pounded so hard; surely he could hear it.
“Morgana,” he whispered. He eased her closer to him, his touch light and gentle. His hand skimmed over her body from her breast to her thigh, cupping her buttocks, drawing her ever closer. Something hard pressed against her thigh, and a myriad of questions hurtled through her mind. Tentatively, she touched his chest with its light matting of hair, her fingers straying to his well-muscled arm, wondering whether he considered her too bold or too shy. Above all, she regretted she’d had no one to tell her what to expect on this momentous night of her life.
“You don’t need this.” He eased her shift up her legs while she raised herself and pulled the garment over her head, tossing the linen, where it fell in a heap onto the floor. Her heart pounded faster, faster, drumbeats thudding against her ribs. He
He came to stand behind her, his hands lightly resting on her shoulders, his mouth close to her ear. “Your cloak, Morgana. I don’t believe you need it now. The chamber is quite warm, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course.” She shed her cloak into his waiting hands, letting him set the wrap on a chair. If only she could shed her misgivings as easily. Buffeted by countless anxieties, she turned to face him and forced a smile. Her heart thudded against her ribs. Her knees shook, and she hoped her long dress hid her tremors.
He held a chair for her and gestured toward a wine bottle and glasses on the table. “I asked the innkeeper to leave a bottle of wine for us. Let us sit and have our own private toast to our happiness.”
She slipped into the chair while he poured the wine, then sat opposite her. “‘Twas thoughtful of you, Keir, to have wine waiting for us.” Gods, could she do no better than this? She was trembling inside, agonizing over what was to come, worried that she would disappoint him. They sounded like two actors, rehearsing their lines. The dim light from the fireplace and the candle flame danced around the room, revealing his face in darkness, then in light. One moment, his hair appeared black, the next, its true chestnut hue.
“‘Tis good to get away from the others, don’t you agree? To have this time to ourselves?” Not giving her a chance to reply, he continued. “Now let me tell you a little about my family and my kingdom. I am the oldest, with two sisters and a younger brother, which means I shall inherit the throne. May my father rule forever, for he, and indeed, my whole family, means much to me.” His expression said it all, how dear his family was to him. And in time, would she come to mean much to him, too?
Time sped past as he spoke of his country and its customs and what awaited her in Glennamin. In surprise, Morgana looked at her wine glass and found it empty, a sure indication that Keir had done much to alleviate her uncertainties.
He indicated the empty glass. “Would you like more wine?”
She shook her head. “I fear I’ve had too much to drink already, what with the wine at our wedding feast.” And what will happen now? Would he tear all her clothes off, throw her on the bed, then have his way with her? No, she felt sure he wouldn’t; so far, he’d exhibited only kindness toward her.
She needn’t have worried, she thought later after Keir had extinguished the candles and helped her discard her dress, so that she lay in bed clad only in her shift. By the firelight that flickered in the room, she saw him shed his clothes and slip into bed beside her. She felt the bed shift with his weight and caught his scent of spicy soap. She gave silent thanks to all the gods for the chamber’s dimness, for she had never seen a naked man before.
What would happen next? Her heart pounded so hard; surely he could hear it.
“Morgana,” he whispered. He eased her closer to him, his touch light and gentle. His hand skimmed over her body from her breast to her thigh, cupping her buttocks, drawing her ever closer. Something hard pressed against her thigh, and a myriad of questions hurtled through her mind. Tentatively, she touched his chest with its light matting of hair, her fingers straying to his well-muscled arm, wondering whether he considered her too bold or too shy. Above all, she regretted she’d had no one to tell her what to expect on this momentous night of her life.
“You don’t need this.” He eased her shift up her legs while she raised herself and pulled the garment over her head, tossing the linen, where it fell in a heap onto the floor. Her heart pounded faster, faster, drumbeats thudding against her ribs. He
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