More Than Charming (11 page)

He pulled back, gazing deeply into her violet eyes. “Tonight, Catherine,” he promised in a husky voice.

Catherine simply nodded. “I don’t know what will happen, James. But I’m so happy to be with you.”

He nearly grabbed her and ran from the room. God, she was made for him. Just him.

The orchestra music reached him, signaling the arrival of the wedding guests. Taking her hand in his once more, he led his wife into the grand ballroom.

*     *     *

After bidding farewell to her family, Catherine joined James in his carriage. He waited for her to sit and lowered himself beside her. Settling back against the cushioned seat, he grasped her hand in his, twining their fingers together. Catherine stared down at their hands, clasped so intimately, and felt warmth spread through her. They were married!

“Did you enjoy the celebration, wife?”

Catherine smiled at his easy use of the endearment. “Yes, husband,” she returned. “Everything was lovely.”

“I’ve a wedding supper planned for us at Bradford.”

It struck her then. They would be alone at Bradford, away from her family and all she’d known before. And what about the coming evening? What of the wedding night?

“A wedding supper?” she asked, striving to keep her nervousness out of her voice. “For just the two of us?”

James quirked a half-smile at her. “Is there someone you wish to have join us?”

“Oh, no,” she answered quickly. “It’ll be wonderful, I’m certain.”

“Catherine,” he whispered, drawing her to his side.

She stared up at him. “Yes, James?” she asked, breathless.

“Kiss me,” he gently instructed.

She closed her eyes and gently placed her lips on his. At the feel of his warm breath on her skin, she grew bolder and licked his lips with her tongue. He growled in response and she giggled, then began moving her lips against his. He kissed her back, their lips beginning that sensual dance that made her knees weak.

They spent the remainder of the carriage ride kissing and cuddling, Catherine’s nervousness all but disappearing in the cozy interior of the carriage.

When they arrived at Bradford Hall, James assisted Catherine down from the carriage. He waved her ahead of him and followed her up the wide stone steps to the large entryway. Just as a servant was opening the door, he swept Catherine up into his arms.

She grabbed on to his shoulders for support. “James!”

James laughed as he twirled her in his arms, the sound echoing throughout the marble-tiled entry. He placed her back on her feet and kissed her. “Welcome home, Lady Roberts.”

She lowered her lashes, embarrassed by his display.

He leaned closer. “Is everything all right, love?”

“James,” she whispered. “The servants will see.”

He led her into the formal dining room. “Catherine, we’re married. I will no longer resist the urge to touch you whenever and wherever I wish.” He stopped and shot her a look of worry. “Unless you don’t wish me to?”

“Oh, no, James! That is,” she recovered, “I want you to touch me.”

“Ah, I’ll touch you, wife,” he whispered. “Until you sigh with pleasure.”

His words caused a flush to spread over her body. As if he hadn’t just said the most outrageous and provocative thing, he rang for their supper and held out Catherine’s chair for her.

The meal was magnificent, the pheasant done to perfection. They chatted easily over their meal, but when his hand brushed hers, she suddenly grew quiet. She studied her husband in the candlelight, pondering her feelings for the very handsome man seated across from her. His touch made her feel so happy. Was it the norm to feel such things for one’s spouse? Surely her brother and his wife were quite pleased with one another. But then, they were in love.

As if James noticed the small change in her demeanor, he arched a brow at her. “You don’t think that I’ll devour you before we sample the magnificent dessert the cook has prepared, do you?”

Catherine laughed and shook herself out of her reverie. “I was merely marveling that we are even seated here, James. Why only a year ago, I—”

“Don’t speak of him, love,” James cut in. “That fool’s betrayal led to my making you my own.”

Catherine felt her heart flutter at that statement. “Am I truly your own, James?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He lost his smile as he gazed at her. He stood suddenly and pulled her to her feet and Catherine let out a yelp of surprise.

“Dessert can wait,” he murmured, pulling her close.

He kissed her fiercely. Before she could catch her breath, he swept her into his arms once more and carried her up the grand staircase to his chamber.

Not until they were inside the bedroom did James let her go, and then only to close the door. He leaned against the wood panel and ran his eyes over her from head to toe. Catherine turned from his close scrutiny and looked about the room.

The chamber was quite grand, decorated in shades of blue. A sitting area was at one end of the space and a fire blazed brightly in the fireplace situated between two plump upholstered chairs. The other furniture filling the space was of dark wood and intricately carved, glowing from frequent polishing. She gasped as her eyes settled on the largest bed she’d ever seen.

She squared her shoulders and turned back to James. She’d regained her earlier composure, and her nervousness along with it. “I suppose you wish to go to bed now.”

James nearly choked at that ridiculous understatement. If he told her precisely what it was he wanted just now, his innocent bride would undoubtedly faint dead away.

“Why don’t you ready for bed?”

Catherine nodded and all but ran into the dressing room.

He stripped out of his finery, deciding at the last moment to leave on his breeches. He started to sit on the edge of the bed to await his bride’s appearance when he realized that the huge four-poster might be intimidating to her. Crossing over to the sitting area of the room, he settled himself on the arm of one of the well-stuffed chairs that flanked the fireplace.

At last she emerged. My God, she was worth the wait. Catherine walked toward him, a smile curving her lips. Her eyes ran over him, making him grateful that he’d kept on his breeches.

She quickly lowered her eyes to the floor. “I’m ready for bed, husband.”

He rose to his feet and crossed to her. Her thin gown caressed her curves, giving his eyes a tantalizing preview of what awaited him.

“My God, Catherine. You take my breath away.”

She brought her gaze to his and reached up to touch his face.

He pulled her close to him, their foreheads touching. “I want you so much, Catherine.”

“I’m yours, James.”

He kissed her gently and pulled back to cup her face with his hand. “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You’ll never hurt me, James.” Catherine smiled up at him. “You promised.”

He was confused for a moment, until he remembered the promise he gave her the night he asked her to marry him. He shook his head. “There will be a little pain, love,” he said. “It’ll be over quickly, I promise.”

She furrowed her brow.
Ah, hell
. He thought to turn her attention and pulled her close, running his hands over her back.

She placed her hands on his bare chest. “You’re beautifully made, James.”

He chuckled and captured her lips. His tongue teased her, drawing a reaction from her. She whimpered as his hands caressed her breasts through her thin nightgown. He brought his lips to her neck, to her silken skin. She purred against him, the sound driving him mad.

He unbuttoned her gown, placing kisses on the skin he was revealing. He cupped her breasts once more.

She grabbed his wrists and strained toward him, closing her eyes. “James . . .”

He bent his head and flicked his tongue over one nipple, delighting in the tiny shudder she gave. He closed his mouth over it, sucking until it was a hard nub, then lavished attention on the other breast. So sweet. When he lifted his head, he saw the passion etched on Catherine’s face. She opened her eyes, their irises darkened to violet.

He removed her nightgown and lifted her in his arms. He placed her in the middle of the big bed, peeled off his breeches and joined her. He stretched out on top of her, supporting part of his weight with his elbows.

“Ah, Catherine,” he murmured, reveling in the feel of her body beneath his.

She gasped as his chest brushed against her breasts. He kissed her deeply, his tongue thrusting slowly in and out of her mouth. Catherine twined her fingers through his hair as his mouth claimed her breast once more. Her body arched upward and he kissed and licked her sweet flesh, wanting to taste all of her. He stopped at her waist. Best to wait for another time to put his mouth on her most private place.

He brought his face to hers and kissed her gently. “Catherine, I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me, James,” she said breathlessly. “You can’t.”

How could she have such faith in him? His fingers shook as he caressed her and found her already wet for him. He could wait no longer to be inside her. He settled himself between her thighs and eased into her, letting out a groan of intense pleasure as he felt her warmth welcome him. The thin barrier of her virginity momentarily blocked his entrance.

He held himself still and stared down at her. “Catherine,” he ground out. “Hold on to me.”

Catherine reached up to grab his shoulders as he entered her fully. He caught her cry in his mouth and steeled himself not to move for a few moments. He continued to caress her with his hands and mouth and then slipped his fingers between them and stroked her clitoris until she was writhing beneath him.

“James, I need you,” she moaned and shuddered as his fingers continued to play with her. Finally, until he could stand it no more, he began to move inside her gently as he let her get accustomed to him. She lifted her hips and took in more of him, a sigh escaping her lips. His thrusts became more forceful. He was soon driving into her, his control quickly vanishing. Catherine caught his passion, her legs squeezing to draw him even deeper.

“Oh, James.” She gasped. “Oh, yes . . .”

She tightened around him as she neared her release. As she cried out his name, he gave in to his own climax, shouting as he poured himself into her. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, his heartbeat slowly resuming its normal pace. He breathed in deeply, liking his scent mingling with her sweetness.

“Catherine,” he said when he found his voice.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. “Yes, James?” she asked, her voice husky.

“I . . .” He couldn’t put into words what he was feeling. Never before had he felt such release, such a sense of completion. He turned his thoughts instead to her virgin’s pain. “I’m sorry I hurt you, love.”

“You didn’t hurt me, James. Merely a twinge. It’s forgotten.”

He smiled his relief at that and rolled over, drawing her to his side. Catherine rested her head on his chest, her fingers curling in the dark hairs.

“James,” she whispered. “Did I . . . please you?”

He heard the doubt in her voice and dropped a kiss on her tousled curls. “Sweetheart, you were perfect.”

Catherine sighed and cuddled closer. James knew by her soft, even breathing that she’d fallen asleep. He thought of the incredible passion they’d just shared. He’d never felt that way before, his release never that explosive. It was as if she was made for his loving, and he for hers. And to think he’d very nearly lost her to that bastard Waltham! His heart clenched at the thought of her with any other man. She was his, body and soul.

He kissed his wife once more and sighed, joining her in slumber.

Catherine was slow to awaken the next morning. She stretched languorously, shocked when she bumped into James’s fit body. Her eyes snapped open in surprise. She found him leaning above her, smiling broadly.

“Good morning.”

She clutched the sheets to her bosom and James chuckled.

“Catherine, we were completely intimate last night. There’s no part of you I haven’t seen.”

“I didn’t see all of you, James.”

He grinned and threw the sheets off of himself. She gasped and shut her eyes tight. He laughed again and kissed her.

“Come, wife,” he gently chided. “You don’t wish to stay in bed all day, do you?”

She opened her eyes and shrugged.

“Catherine, is everything all right?”

She was embarrassed, but not enough to keep her thoughts from her husband. “I want you to make love to me again, James,” she whispered shyly.

He sharply drew in a breath. He gently ran his finger across her cheek, down her neck. “Aren’t you sore this morning?”

She shook her head and smiled. “I told you, you can’t hurt me, husband. Did you forget?”

“But, I thought that after we—”

“James?”

“Yes, Catherine?”

“Kiss me,” she instructed.

He honored his wife’s request. He took her again, slowly, gently, and when they came together, their climax was shattering. Afterward, he cradled her in his arms.

“That was wonderful.” Catherine sighed, rubbing her face against his chest.

James held her closer then abruptly sat up in the bed. “We should get dressed.”

“James, is something wrong?”

“What? No, nothing.” He flashed her his charming smile. “I’ll order a bath for you if you like.”

She stared at him for a long moment, finally accepting his offer with a small nod. He went into the dressing room. When he emerged, dressed in gray breeches topped with a white shirt and dark blue jacket, he crossed to her.

“I’ll see you downstairs in the breakfast room, love,” he said, kissing her lightly.

She nodded and watched him go, admiring his long, easy stride. The servants left her to her bath shortly thereafter, leaving her in total privacy. She removed her gown and wrapper and stepped into the tub, letting the warm water soothe her spirits.

Her mind found its way back to the subject of her husband and his very confusing behavior of the morning. James had seemed strange to her for that brief moment in their bed. Why, it seemed as though the incredible way in which they fit each other was troubling to him. Was he somehow displeased with her performance? He’d seemed more than pleased, but perhaps she was incapable of judging such matters. Surely her mind was muddled from the intense pleasure she felt when they came together. She set about bathing herself, clearing her mind of everything but the feel of the water and the scent of the soap.