Sebastian faced her, stretched on his side. One arm lay tucked beneath both his head and the pillow, the other rested possessively in the curve of her waist. The weight of that arm held her prisoner, but Ivy did not mind. It was a perfect opportunity to examine him. An unforeseen gift, she mused, her gaze drifting over his features. Her husband’s face was softened in slumber, his eyes hidden behind lush, black eyelashes thick enough to make any woman jealous. The sensual fullness of his lips and the high curve of his cheekbones were complimented by eyebrows dark and full like a raven's wings. She almost reached up to trace one before reminding herself to remain still, altering her breathing to light, shallow breaths so he would not realize she was awake.

His chin bore a dark shading of stubble. He would need a shave soon. Would he ask her to help with that, or would his valet always take care of such things? Did wives typically assist with such things? Ivy’s eyes dropped to his chest. It was bare, a rippling expanse of hard, bronzed vastness much wider than she remembered. It beckoned exploration, calling her to outline the rigid, dark points of his flat nipples so different from her own, the skin stretching in gleaming sheets over bundles of sinew and flesh.

A vee of rough black hair commenced below his navel before trailing off to destinations better left uncharted beneath the edge of the coverlet. The fabric lay pinned to his waist by the position of their bodies, and for the briefest of moments, Ivy considered tugging it free. Lean muscles lined the slabs of his abdomen along with a long, thin scar, pale cream in color. It snaked across the lower part of his rib cage. Barely noticeable in the dimness of the room, it was damage a rapier or a knife blade might leave. Duels were practically a gentleman’s hobby in France and England. Ivy wanted to trace the length of that scar, to gently press it with her fingertips, as if she could heal any residual pain with a simple touch.

The faint laceration was a sobering reminder of the confrontation Sebastian wished to undertake against the Viscount Basford. Ivy shifted slightly in renewed distress with the thought. Her movement dislodging his arm a fraction of an inch from the curve of her waist and she realized he was awake.

He watched her, the strangest expression stamped across his features. Ivy considered flinging herself from the bed before forcing herself to relax. She had placed herself there of her own accord; she would not flee. As sleep dissipated and desire sparked in Sebastian’s gaze, her chin tilted.

"I'm curious how we came to be in this particular situation. Especially when I recall your strong feelings on this subject yesterday afternoon.” Propping himself up, Sebastian rested his head in the palm of one hand, the other still locked around Ivy's waist. His grip tightened, drawing her closer until mere inches separated them. "Well?" His voice was rough with restraint. "I eagerly await your explanation.”

Jumbled thoughts overwhelmed Ivy. Did Sebastian wear anything beneath the edge of the coverlet? His chest was naked. Was the rest of him? What the devil did men wear to bed? Anything? Nothing? Waves of heat emanated from him. The same heat she gravitated to in the middle of the night. Never was she so warm, so content, as the first night of sleeping with her husband.

His leg brushed against hers. Oh God. It was bare. Or did her imagination run rampant with panic? Her mind could not properly function, not when feverishly contemplating the state of his clothing. Or, lack of.

"Your silence leads me to believe you would prefer I take matters into my own hands.” Sebastian's lips lifted with the beginnings of a grin as Ivy swallowed and finally found her voice.

"It did not seem right we should spend our wedding night in separate beds.” Ivy cleared her throat, her heart beating so rapidly she thought it might thump out of her chest. "Regardless of everything, I did not wish that we spend it apart. I…I know it was not as you wanted it to be. Since we did not... that is to say, you did not...”

Her words trailed off into silence. Foolish, embarrassed tears swelled and she furiously blinked them back. Since meeting this man, the disturbing tendency to cry raised its head at the most inopportune times, and she hated the peculiar weakness.

Sebastian’s features softened at her dismay. "I will remember our wedding night forever. Because it was not as I expected. You would know I’m a liar if I said I do not want to make love to you, but right now, you trust me to hold you.” He brushed a wayward curl from her forehead. "Will you let me kiss you, my anxious little wife? I’m not sure I trust myself to go no further, but what matters most to me, is will you trust me?"

Hypnotized by the silky roughness of Sebastian’s voice as he moved closer, Ivy waited in wary curiosity. When his hand glided to cup her jaw, fingers sliding into the tendrils of hair springing free from the braids, she voiced no objection nor did she move away.

Moving so that he loomed over her, Sebastian pinned Ivy flat to the mattress. His large hands buried themselves into the pillows on either side of her head, his lips closing the distance separating them. He kissed her deeply, slowly, leisurely dipping his tongue into her mouth until she was breathless. Desperately grasping handfuls of her own nightgown was the only way she kept her fingers from sliding into the thickness of his hair. A fire ignited within her belly, spreading flames of insidious delight. She imagined his hands touching her everywhere.

Then Sebastian stopped.

"That's probably enough for now, don't you think?"

Rolling away from the bed in one smooth motion, he reached for a dark grey robe lying on a nearby chair and Ivy had a quick glance of muscled, impossibly golden-brown buttocks before the fabric concealed his nudity. Tying garment’s silk sash, he grinned at her over his shoulder.

Why, why was he touched by the sun there? Where breeches should have covered him? A thousand questions whirled in her brain, each more confusing than the last.

"Forgive me, sweetheart. It’s my habit to sleep as Nature intended, so I suggest you accustom yourself to it. Eventually, you will come to know my body as well as your own.”

"I don't understand,” Ivy stammered. "I thought you wanted to...”

“Make love to you?” Sebastian laughed softly at her confusion. "Oh, I do. Believe me, I do. Only this is hardly a good time. Gabriel is incredibly dedicated to being my man of affairs. It is habit to pop in quite early. He may already know you decided to take up residence in my chambers, he usually knows everything. But, then again, he might not expect you here when he comes barreling through the door. You left matters up in the air yesterday afternoon.”

"Does this occur every day?" Ivy’s voice was tight with mortification. Her own words made it seem as though she wanted far more than kissing. Her cheeks burned, thinking what might have followed those kisses.

"It doesn't have to be.” The look he gave her was inscrutable. "If you've other ideas, I’ll instruct Gabriel to come only when summoned. It would be quite awkward to be discovered in the midst of something...ah, intimate.”

"You are insufferable,” she breathed.

Sebastian only laughed. "Save your judgment. At least until tomorrow morning.” His eyebrow raised slightly, a faintly challenging gesture Ivy could not ignore. "You could always retreat to the safety of your lonely chamber.”

Ivy pulled herself to a sitting position, arms wrapped about her knees as she considered the options.

On her impulsive orders, all her clothing and personal toiletry items were placed in the dressing room and not within the personal armoire in the lady’s chambers. The other apartment, spacious and feminine, lacked the same warmth and vitality as his. Ivy felt comfortable here, safe, somehow more alive in this room. There was no desire to spend even one night in that other cold, lonely, bed. Not if she were honest with herself.

Sebastian Cain was both calming and disconcerting to her senses all at once. Although she wished this marriage had not taken place, she gravitated to him. And while she hoped he would honor the vow giving her time to adjust to being his wife, the idea of not being near him was unimaginable.

Sebastian’s eyes flared with victory when Ivy settled back into the warmth of his bed.

She would stay. Whatever the reason, she would stay.

A knock came at the door, saving Ivy from his triumphant remark as he called out a command to enter.

“Good morning.” Gabriel smiled upon seeing her in the middle of the rumpled bed. “I took the liberty of assuming you would still be abed. I’ve brought Her Ladyship tea, hot chocolate, and coffee.”

Slouching at the intrusion, Ivy pulled the coverlet up to her chin, although Gabriel’s jovial tone indicated he was hardly surprised to find her there. With Sebastian’s impatient wave, he shouldered his way into the room, carrying an ornate tray, burdened with three gleaming silver pots and two smaller vessels containing cream and sugar.

“How thoughtful of you.” Ivy trembled with embarrassment from the tent of covers. “I prefer tea in the mornings, but hot chocolate is an occasional treat. There’s no need for you to go to such trouble on my account, Gabriel. I always take my breakfast in the dining room.”

“Do not fret, milady. I already knew your preferences, and I bring Ravenswood’s coffee up, regardless. He is a veritable bear in the mornings without it. It is no trouble to add a pot of tea and some sugar biscuits to tide you over until breakfast. Milord informed me you enjoy the Rosethorne tea from his plantation, so I took the liberty of having Chef brew it for you.”

“I have not had it for some time, but I do adore it.” She frowned at the puzzling statement of her habits being known, then averted her gaze at Sebastian’s upraised brow. How could she confess to throwing the remains of his gift into the fire during an inconsolable crying spell only two weeks ago?

Sebastian leveled a perturbed glance at Gabriel. “I have only managed to convince the countess to remain in my bed. I’d rather you not frighten her out of it by referring to me as an animal.”

“Very good, milord.” Gabriel gave Ivy a mischievous wink as he set the tray on a low fruitwood chest. “I’ll leave this and return later.”

“A splendid idea. Might I suggest you don’t come back at all?” Sebastian poured a cup of coffee without benefit of cream or sugar. “And, have done with this “milord” business.”

“See what I mean, milady? A real bear,” Gabriel murmured, then louder he said, “Perhaps it may be best if you ring when you would like your coffee and milady’s tea delivered.”

“If you will abide by that, then yes...” Sebastian muttered. “Good God, all I want is a bit of privacy in the mornings. It’s not too much to bloody ask, is it?”

Gabriel chuckled. “You must inform me when you wish for privacy. Damned difficult business to read minds.”

Ivy smiled at their bantering. Gabriel apparently delighted in pushing Sebastian’s patience, and even she was curious how far he might go before the earl snapped.

Sebastian’s lips tightened with annoyance when Gabriel, wearing a devilish smile, exited the chambers.

"What would delight your heart today? Hot chocolate and tea are only the beginning of the debauchery I intend." Picking up a delicate teacup, Sebastian poured a splash of cream, followed by tea and one cube of sugar.

Ivy did not know whether to be pleased or surprised. He remembered precisely how she preferred her tea. Of course, he would commit to memory everything about her when actively pursuing her as prey. Anything which might prove an advantage, no matter how minuscule the detail…

"A bath.” Accepting the tea, her eyes widened as Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed. He drank his coffee, his smile relaxed, as if this ritual was commonplace. How disturbing...that she should be so comfortable with the earl serving her a morning cup of tea in bed.

“I find it high on my agenda as well,” Sebastian paused, then continued in a wry tone. "Will you accept my assistance? I vow to be the perfect gentleman. I can keep my hands to myself when required.”

Ivy’s stare was frankly disbelieving.

"I did not say it would be damn near impossible and extremely difficult, but I can do it.” His eyes glimmered with something dark and intent. “Will you trust me?"

Ivy sipped the tea, allowing its warmth to trickle through her. The thought of a bath in that intriguing room with its huge porcelain tub and elegant faucets was so enticing.

Lizzie explained the system yesterday, demonstrating how the taps worked and the process in which heated water was forced up from the kitchens through the piping system, the separate faucet allowing cold water to be added as needed. Sebastian's father modified the suite’s previous sitting room based on the steam baths in Rome. The inventions much impressed him as a young man; he spent a small fortune replicating them.

The tub was large enough for two adults. Ivy blushed, thinking one day she and Sebastian might share it. "I'm not sure.”

Sebastian pounced on her weakness. "I'm sure. Very sure.”

Ivy contemplated the intimacy of such an act. Taking another nervous sip of tea, the cup rattled against the delicate saucer when she lowered it. "I’m sure there aren’t nearly enough towels...”

“The room is well stocked and your toiletry items are already in there,” he interrupted. “Now, let’s fill the tub, shall we?”

Taking the cup and saucer from her, he pulled back the coverlet. Ivy heard his low groan. The thinnest of white satin ribbons held the bodice of her flimsy white gown closed while the sleeves billowed full and luxurious before narrowing to tiny circles around her wrists. However, those charming details did not hold Sebastian’s attention. During the night, the length of the gown had twisted around her thighs, and now, her legs flashed in the dim morning light. Ivy hastily yanked the fabric down and scrambled from the bed, ignoring the hand he held out to assist her.

Her bare feet did not make a sound as she passed from the soft Aubusson rug to the gleaming hardwood floor, her toes curling slightly against the chill. She followed Sebastian silently, reconsidering the situation.

Once inside the large bathing room, Sebastian twisted a spigot, and a few moments later, hot water began filling the tub. While Ivy stood awkwardly waiting, steam rose in curling tendrils of vapor to drift lazily in the cool air. She studied the room as the bath was drawn. Wallpapered in a pleasingly masculine style of dark and light green horizontal stripes, the cream toned furnishing provided an elegant accent. A bank of floor to ceiling windows occupied much of the largest wall opposite of the tub, with cream-colored drapes pulled open to reveal the scenery. Next to the tub was a heavily carved bench as well as a step stool to aid with getting in and out. Creamy white porcelain pitchers lined the bottom shelf of a washstand and an oversized armoire contained armloads of fresh towels and an assortment of soaps, oils, and sponges.

Sebastian filled the pitchers with water, lining them beside the tub. After rummaging around in the armoire, he produced a small vial of bath powder and poured a tiny bit into the tub. It foamed with the agitation of the water.

The frothy puffs fascinated Ivy, the scent of lilies perfuming the air. "I did not know it would do that.”

Sebastian knelt before the marble fireplace. Soon a cheery little blaze burned, chasing away the slight chill of the room. "It only requires the agitation of the water hitting the powder to make the bubbles. It still softens the skin but I believe you will enjoy this immensely.”

A bar of lily-scented soap, two huge soft bath towels and a tan colored sponge were set within reach of the tub. Sebastian closed the faucets.

"Milady, your bath awaits you.” He gave her a courtly bow.

Wrapping her arms around herself, hiding within the folds of her nightgown, Ivy chewed her bottom lip. She could not disrobe before him. A gleam of banked desire lurked in his eyes - it hardly seemed wise to remove her clothing when he looked at her so hungrily.

Sebastian grinned in sudden understanding, nodding toward the decorative screen in the corner. Beautifully painted, a woodland scene spread across its three panels. A group of scarlet clad lords on horseback, along with a pack of lean hounds, raced across one scene, a section of woods and fields occupied the middle scene, and in the last panel, a petite red fox looked back at its pursuers, mouth open as if panting in distress.

Ivy felt a shared kinship with the unfortunate creature.

"You may disrobe behind that. If the bubbles are not enough protection, you may pull a towel in along with you.” His eyes slid over her, warm and appreciative. "And should it please you, I will help you wash your hair.”

Sebastian pointed her toward the screen, giving her rump a little slap and ignoring her small “Oh!” of surprise.

"Better hurry,” he drawled. "Wouldn’t want the water to get cold. Or even worse, from your point of view that is, for the bubbles to subside.”

Rubbing the slight sting on her posterior, Ivy hurried behind the screen, taking a towel with her. Whipping the nightgown off, she wrapped the towel tight around her then rushed to the tub, scrambling over its side. Tossing the towel aside, she eased into the fluffy bubbles and once safely submerged to the tops of her breasts, she looked at him.

Sebastian stood with his back to her, arms crossed, bare legs exposed from mid-calf down. The robe stretched across the width of his muscled back.

"You may turn around.” Ivy sank lower into the water as Sebastian pivoted, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of the tub. Pulling the fat braid of her hair over one shoulder, she tugged at the end of it. "This is quite extraordinary. You may never get me out of here.”

Coming closer, his grin turned wicked when she sank even further into the water’s depths, up to her collarbone. Her cheeks flamed with heat. Thank God for the bath powders. Mounds of sudsy bubbles concealed her body from his stare.

"Once it is mutually agreed I should join you, I may not let you out.” Sebastian walked behind the tub, and taking her braid in his hands, he untied the bit of ribbon.

"I don't believe the scent of lilies would be to your liking.” Ivy tensed as he deftly unraveled the plait.

"I'll take the risk.” Gathering up the whole mass of her hair, Sebastian raked his hands through it. From her forehead to her temples, his fingers massaged her scalp as he gently, but firmly pulled the hair away from her face. Ivy closed her eyes at the pleasurable sensation then frowned when his hands dropped. He bent to fetch two of the pitchers.

“Lean your head back,” he instructed, pouring the water over her hair until it was thoroughly drenched. Picking up the bar of soap, he worked it into a luxurious lather, his hands plunging again and again until her hair was a soapy mass.

It was a luxurious experience, the feel of his fingers scrubbing and massaging, the hot silkiness of the water lapping at her skin, the soft foaminess of the bubbles caressing her flesh. Sebastian looped her hair through his hands, swirling the slippery profusion of it around her head. At one point, he chuckled softly.

When Ivy peeked at him over her shoulder, he shrugged. "I'm not sure how you manage all this by yourself.”

Her answer stuck in her throat. The sweetness of Sebastian undertaking such a mundane task was heart-stopping. What would this do to his ruthless reputation if word leaked out? His robe was open almost to his waist, revealing golden skin and sinewy muscles. His male beauty was difficult to ignore. Ivy’s skin tingled. The entire experience was luxurious, sensual and uncomfortable all at the same time and undoubtedly, he planned it that way. The way his fingers slid through her hair - similar, but not quite the same, as when they glided over her body, tracing her curves, dipping into hollows and skimming over sensitive places aching to be touched.

Ivy sensed his hesitation when his hands drifted to either side of her neck, the long fingers massaging those muscles and the tops of her shoulders until she trembled.

With a faint noise of frustration, Sebastian resumed the task of washing her hair with a brisk efficiency. When it was time to rinse, he took the last of the pitchers, pouring them one by one over her head to flush the suds away.

"I'll leave you to finish your bath.” With both palms up, he faced her, eyes dark. "And true to my word, I kept my hands to myself.”

Ivy nodded, surprised by the tiny frisson of disappointment streaking through her.

"I shall have the fire going, and perhaps you would like to try a cup of hot chocolate. I have the cocoa brought in from Spain. It is quite decadent. We’ll ring for Lizzie to come help you dress. Unless you prefer my assistance again.”

Ivy knew…if he helped dress her, she’d be unable to resist him. Lips tight, she shook her head. “Lizzy will be fine.”

He gave her an unfathomable look before exiting, and Ivy finished bathing in silence. Stepping from the tub and winding a towel about her hair, she frowned at her own complacency. She was making her own seduction incredibly easy. He merely washed her hair and she quivered at his touch.

After slipping her nightgown back on, Ivy returned to the bedchamber. A chair and a small table were pulled close to the fire. The pot of hot chocolate and a clean cup, along with her brush and comb rested upon the table. He had placed a soft blanket in the chair and her slippers waited beside it.

"Ah, there you are,” Sebastian said cheerfully, pulling the drapes back. Early morning light filtered into the room, mingling with the glow of the firelight. He knelt down to slide the slippers onto her feet, a smile twitching his lips.

“What is so amusing?” Ivy drew the blanket across her lap.

"With your hair wrapped so, you remind me of an empress I saw once. Only you are much more beautiful. And, daring to touch you won't leave me in danger of losing my head or having my hands lopped off.”

She laughed despite herself. "Are you sure about that?"

His eyebrow lifted in mock challenge. "I suppose the risk is worth it.”

Gathering up a few personal items, he disappeared into the bathing room while Ivy pondered his words. A curious feeling of anticipation shimmered through her.

Kisses, hot chocolate, Sebastian washing her hair. Such a peculiar first morning as husband and wife.