“I know that too.” Trenton cleared his throat roughly, alerting Ariana to the gravity of his next words. “If I haven’t already said the words, let me say them now. It means a great deal for me to know I’m the only man you’ve ever permitted such liberties … the only man you’ve ever been with.”
Ariana blinked. “What a curious thing to say!” she blurted out without thinking. “You’re my husband! Who else would I have been with?” Instantly, she wanted to kick herself, recognizing both the foolishness of her question and the dangerous avenue this conversation was taking.
As she feared, Trenton’s features hardened, the predatory lines reappearing about his eyes and mouth. “Who indeed? Your question, Ariana, demonstrates a trusting sentimentality that is shared by few.”
This time Ariana answered cautiously, knowing she was entering the realm of the forbidden. “Do most women lie with men other than their husbands?”
A shadow crossed Trenton’s face: Whether sorrow or cynicism, she wasn’t certain. Then he shrugged. “Some do.”
Silently, Ariana considered her husband’s reply. “Did you expect I was one of them?” she asked at last.
Trenton’s expression instantly softened, and he shook his head, caressing Ariana’s smooth cheek with his knuckles. “No, my refreshing misty angel, I knew you were very much a virgin.” His penetrating cobalt gaze dropped to her lips. “An incredibly passionate virgin,” he added huskily. “So extraordinarily responsive that, had I not worn you out until dawn, I would most assuredly keep you in bed through nightfall.” Slowly, he brought their mouths together, fusing their lips with a fierce intensity that burned through Ariana like wildfire.
Abruptly, Trenton released her, his hot, restless stare and unsteady breathing clearly revealing the cost of his self-restraint. “With that in mind,” he managed, rolling to his feet, “we’d best get up and eat something before we starve.”
In a heartbeat, the enchantment vanished.
Reflexively, Ariana drew her knees up and wrapped the blanket around her, assailed by the same inner chill that repeatedly accompanied her physical separation from her husband. She knew his emotional withdrawal was directly related to his comment on faithless women. He’d been referring, of course, to Vanessa and his belief that she’d deceived him.
Had she?
The familiar combination of confusion and dread welled up inside Ariana, ghosts of the past hovering like a dark mist over her happiness.
“Would you care to tour Spraystone now?”
Ariana sat up, brushing strands of hair from her face, noting that Trenton was already fully dressed. “Yes, but I’d like to have a bath first,” she replied uncertainly, trying to interpret her husband’s mood. He seemed brooding, removed—yet devoid of the harsh fury he normally manifested after their long hours of lovemaking. “Would that be possible?”
“Of course.” Trenton hadn’t budged, his intimate scrutiny lingering on Ariana’s bare throat and shoulders. Then with a deep swallow, he gestured sharply toward the bathroom. “I’ll wait for you in the sitting room. It’s down the stairs, the first room on your right.”
Ariana nodded again, lowering her eyes. Now what should she do? Wait for Trenton to take his leave? Or arise, stark naked, while he stood before her?
“You’ll find your clothing in the wardrobe,” Trenton prompted. “I sent our bags on ahead and Clara unpacked before we arrived.”
Clara. Ariana recalled the name at once. Trenton had mentioned that she was the wife of his manservant, Gilbert.
That recollection prompted a thought. “You said Theresa couldn’t join me because Spraystone had no provisions—”
“Clara and Gilbert work here,” Trenton answered her unfinished question. “They do not live here. Their home is in Bembridge. I’ve given them a few days off,” he added.
“I see.”
Trenton’s eyes continued to bore into her, she could feel them. Nervously, she contemplated her knees.
“I trust you don’t require servants to bathe?” he addressed her lowered head.
Ariana’s fists gripped the sheets. “I am quite skilled at bathing myself.”
“Ah.” Trenton sighed heavily. “A pity. I was about to offer my assistance.”
Ariana’s chin came up, her startled gaze darting to his.
“Ah, so you can look at me,” he drawled.
Seeing the glint of humor in her husband’s eyes, Ariana realized with a rush of joyful surprise that he’d actually been teasing her. “Thank you … perhaps another time,” she returned, eagerly embracing his uncustomary banter. “But in this case I fear your assistance would result in another delayed tour of Spraystone.”
To Ariana’s utter amazement, Trenton threw back his head and laughed. “I fear you’re right, misty angel. So I’ll take my leave and await your arrival to dine.”
Ariana watched him go, blinking dazedly at the closed door. The sound of Trenton’s laughter was exhilarating—as was the fact that she was its cause.