Devil in Spring

Any of the awkwardness Pandora might have felt while being undressed by a man was eclipsed by Gabriel’s continuing amusement. He kept breaking out into chuckles until she demanded, “Are you still laughing over your metaphor?”

That set him off again. “It wasn’t a metaphor.”

Although Pandora wanted to point out that most brides would not appreciate their husbands laughing like hyenas while removing their clothing, she was fairly certain that anything she said would only prolong his amusement. She waited until her corset was unhooked, leaving her only in her chemise and drawers, and then she dashed to the bed and plunged beneath the covers. “Gabriel?” she asked, pulling the bedclothes up to her neck. “Instead of champagne . . . may I have a glass of port? Or is that only for gentlemen?”

Her husband came to the bedside and bent to kiss her. “If you like port, my love, that’s what you shall have.”

While he left to ring for a servant, Pandora removed her undergarments beneath the covers. She dropped them over the edge of the mattress and propped an extra pillow behind her.

In a few minutes, Gabriel returned and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking one of her hands, he placed a rectangular leather case on her palm.

“Jewelry?” Pandora asked, suddenly feeling shy. “There was no need for that.”

“It’s customary for the groom to give the bride a gift on the wedding day.”

After unlatching the tiny gold clasp, Pandora opened the case and beheld a double-stranded pearl necklace on a bed of red velvet. Her eyes widened, and she lifted one of the strands, gently rolling the lustrous ivory pearls between her fingers. “I never imagined having something so fine. Thank you.”

“Do they please you, sweet?”

“Oh, so very much—” Pandora began, and stopped as she saw the gold clasp, glittering with diamonds. It was fashioned with two interlocking parts of swirling, deeply cut leaves. “Acanthus scrolls,” she said with a crooked grin. “Like the ones in the settee at the Chaworth ball.”

“I have a fondness for those acanthus scrolls.” His gaze caressed her as she put on the necklace. The double strands were so long that there was no need to unfasten the clasp. “They kept you in place just long enough for me to catch you.”

Pandora grinned, enjoying the cool, sensuous weight of the pearls as they slid against her neck and chest. “I think you were the one who was caught, my lord.”

Gabriel reached out to touch the curve of her bare shoulder with his fingertips, and followed the pearl strands over her breast. “Your captive for life, my lady.”

Pandora leaned forward to kiss him. His mouth was warm and firm, shaping hers deliciously. Her eyes closed and her lips parted, and she was conscious of nothing in the world except the tantalizing stroke of his mouth, and the silky touches of his tongue. She was lightheaded from the penetrating sweetness of his kiss, her lungs dilating as if she were inhaling hot mist. She didn’t realize the sheets and blankets had fallen to her waist until she felt his hand at her breast. His thumb lightly rolled a strand of pearls across the sensitive peak, back and forth. A quiver ran through her, and the pounding of her heart strengthened until she could feel it in her cheeks, throat, breasts, and wrists.

He kissed her slowly, his tongue sinking deeper, deeper, until she moaned at the pleasure of it. She tried to squirm free of the covers, forgetting everything but the need to be closer to him. In the next moment he had her stretched out on the mattress, his fully clothed body covering her naked one. The masculine weight of him was satisfying and exciting, his aroused flesh jutting against her stomach and between her thighs. As she writhed upward into the stimulating pressure, she felt as if butterflies were dancing and fluttering inside.

Gabriel breathed as if he were in torment, claiming her mouth with long, fevered kisses, murmuring darkly as his hands roamed over her. “Your body is so exquisite . . . so strong and soft . . . the way it curves here . . . and here . . . God, I want you so much . . . I need more hands to feel you with.”

If she’d had the breath, she would have told him that he was quite dangerous enough with two.

Wanting to feel his skin, she tugged at his clothes. He moved to help her, although the process was complicated by his reluctance to stop kissing her for more than a few seconds at a time. One garment after another was flung over the side of the bed, until his naked body was revealed, flushed and golden, his torso smooth except for his hair-roughened chest and groin.

After risking a glance at the startling sight of his erection, Pandora’s stomach clenched with nerves, and she pressed her face against his shoulder. Once, on one of their rambles around the estate, she and Cassandra had glimpsed a pair of small boys splashing in a shallow creek, while their mother, a tenant farmer’s wife, watched over them. The boys had been naked and hairless, and their private parts had been so innocently small as to be hardly noticeable.

This, however, would have been noticeable at a hundred yards.

Gabriel’s hand came to her jaw and nudged her to meet his gaze. “Don’t be afraid,” he said thickly.

“I’m not,” she said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. “I was only surprised because . . . well . . . it’s not like a little boy’s.”

Gabriel blinked, and amusement deepened the creases at the outer corners of his eyes. “It is not,” he agreed. “Thank God.”

Taking a deep breath, Pandora tried to think past the attack of nerves. He was her husband, and a beautifully made man, and she was determined that every part of him would be dear to her. Even this rather intimidating part. No doubt his former mistress would have known exactly what to do with it. The thought awakened Pandora’s competitive instincts. Now that she’d asked him to discard his mistress, she could hardly prove herself a poor replacement.