came up to frame her face. ‘Nervous?’ he asked softly.
She nodded. Even her hands were shaking now. Quite naturally Vikram assumed she was scared.
‘Don’t worry. It doesn’t have to be tonight,’ he said gently. ‘Lie down and get some sleep if you want. I’ll move to the sofa.’
‘There’s a lot’s of space in the bed,’ she ventured, wondering how to make it clear that, nervous or not, she was quite ready for some action.
Vikram smiled wryly. ‘I think that would be a little too much for my self-control,’ he said, leaning across and snapping the light off.
Tara stayed awake, staring quietly at the ceiling. This was a bit of an anti-climax. She
had
been nervous—still was—but she hadn’t expected him to back off quite so readily. A little bit of attempted seduction would have been more than fine by her. New worries began to assail her. Didn’t he find her attractive enough? Had she ruined everything by acting gauche and immature?
Being married was turning out to be a lot more complicated than she’d thought, and she pulled herself together with an effort. ‘Vikram?’ she said in a small voice, wondering how to get him back into bed without coming across like a nymphomaniac.
‘Mmm?’ he replied.
She suppressed a little flurry of annoyance. He could have at least said yes at least instead of grunting at her. Then again, he was probably half asleep.
‘Um, can I change my mind?’
CHAPTER FOUR
S EVERAL hours later, Tara rolled over in bed and drew the covers around her a little more closely. So far the night had been the most interesting one in her short life. She looked up at Vikram, who’d propped himself up on one elbow and was gently trailing a finger down her cheek.
‘Was it very bad?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘It hurt like blazes in the beginning, that’s all,’ she said, and buried her face in his shoulder. ‘I was awful, wasn’t I?’
All she could think was that he’d now be comparing her unfavourably with every other woman he’d ever been with—probably even regretting marrying her.
Vikram’s hand paused for a second, and then continued on its way down her bare shoulder. ‘No, you weren’t,’ he said, kissing the napeof her neck. ‘Tonight was probably one of the best nights of my life. I only wish it had been better for you.’
So, all right, he wasn’t complaining. But he might still be comparing. Tara peered at him in the dark, trying to make out his expression. But it was impossible—he was just a black hulking silhouette. She hadn’t let him put on a night light because she’d been embarrassed, and the only light in the room came from outside.
The room they were in faced towards the steel factory where both their fathers worked, and the night sky blazed with light every time a load of slag was dumped out of the huge furnace. An almost perfectly timed flash lit up the room at that point. Filtered through the curtains, the light was a pale unearthly orange, lighting up the planes and angles of Vikram’s face. His usually rather hard expression had been replaced by something that was almost tender, Tara noted. And his torso, as the glimpse she’d got during the wedding had promised, was amazing.
‘Maybe I need practice?’ she ventured finally, doing her best to keep her voice from squeaking as his hand burrowed under the covers.
‘Practice will help,’ he agreed solemnly. ‘Lots of it, preferably. You can count on me.’
The room was almost completely dark now, and Tara welcomed him with open arms as he bent to cover her lips with his.
Waking up the next morning was tough. Tara felt a large hand shaking her shoulder and burrowed even further down under the covers. ‘Not morning yet,’ she muttered.
‘Should I get you breakfast in bed?’ Vikram asked.
Her eyes flew open as she realised where she was. ‘Damn,’ she said, sitting up, careful to keep the covers around her. It was evidently past nine, and she blushed at the thought
She nodded. Even her hands were shaking now. Quite naturally Vikram assumed she was scared.
‘Don’t worry. It doesn’t have to be tonight,’ he said gently. ‘Lie down and get some sleep if you want. I’ll move to the sofa.’
‘There’s a lot’s of space in the bed,’ she ventured, wondering how to make it clear that, nervous or not, she was quite ready for some action.
Vikram smiled wryly. ‘I think that would be a little too much for my self-control,’ he said, leaning across and snapping the light off.
Tara stayed awake, staring quietly at the ceiling. This was a bit of an anti-climax. She
had
been nervous—still was—but she hadn’t expected him to back off quite so readily. A little bit of attempted seduction would have been more than fine by her. New worries began to assail her. Didn’t he find her attractive enough? Had she ruined everything by acting gauche and immature?
Being married was turning out to be a lot more complicated than she’d thought, and she pulled herself together with an effort. ‘Vikram?’ she said in a small voice, wondering how to get him back into bed without coming across like a nymphomaniac.
‘Mmm?’ he replied.
She suppressed a little flurry of annoyance. He could have at least said yes at least instead of grunting at her. Then again, he was probably half asleep.
‘Um, can I change my mind?’
CHAPTER FOUR
S EVERAL hours later, Tara rolled over in bed and drew the covers around her a little more closely. So far the night had been the most interesting one in her short life. She looked up at Vikram, who’d propped himself up on one elbow and was gently trailing a finger down her cheek.
‘Was it very bad?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘It hurt like blazes in the beginning, that’s all,’ she said, and buried her face in his shoulder. ‘I was awful, wasn’t I?’
All she could think was that he’d now be comparing her unfavourably with every other woman he’d ever been with—probably even regretting marrying her.
Vikram’s hand paused for a second, and then continued on its way down her bare shoulder. ‘No, you weren’t,’ he said, kissing the napeof her neck. ‘Tonight was probably one of the best nights of my life. I only wish it had been better for you.’
So, all right, he wasn’t complaining. But he might still be comparing. Tara peered at him in the dark, trying to make out his expression. But it was impossible—he was just a black hulking silhouette. She hadn’t let him put on a night light because she’d been embarrassed, and the only light in the room came from outside.
The room they were in faced towards the steel factory where both their fathers worked, and the night sky blazed with light every time a load of slag was dumped out of the huge furnace. An almost perfectly timed flash lit up the room at that point. Filtered through the curtains, the light was a pale unearthly orange, lighting up the planes and angles of Vikram’s face. His usually rather hard expression had been replaced by something that was almost tender, Tara noted. And his torso, as the glimpse she’d got during the wedding had promised, was amazing.
‘Maybe I need practice?’ she ventured finally, doing her best to keep her voice from squeaking as his hand burrowed under the covers.
‘Practice will help,’ he agreed solemnly. ‘Lots of it, preferably. You can count on me.’
The room was almost completely dark now, and Tara welcomed him with open arms as he bent to cover her lips with his.
Waking up the next morning was tough. Tara felt a large hand shaking her shoulder and burrowed even further down under the covers. ‘Not morning yet,’ she muttered.
‘Should I get you breakfast in bed?’ Vikram asked.
Her eyes flew open as she realised where she was. ‘Damn,’ she said, sitting up, careful to keep the covers around her. It was evidently past nine, and she blushed at the thought
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