The Lover

?You’ll arouse nothing in me save my temper!”

Niall gazed at her measuringly. Her eyes were dark with wariness, but the spirit that flashed there suggested his deliberate provocation was having an effect. She was nervous at the coming union, he knew, but sparring with her brought forth the defiant vixen, which was the only lass he wanted in his bed. One who was unafraid and eager to match him in passion.

When he glimpsed her tongue as it flickered over dewy lips, his voice softened. “You’ve never feared me before, tiger. Don’t begin now.”

“I…I am not afraid. I simply have no desire to submit to a rutting beast.”

His smile was pained. “You wound me grievously. I am hardly a beast. I am your husband.” Niall hesitated, his eyes searching. “Did it not occur to you that this situation might be new to me as well? Despite your much exaggerated account of my debauchery, I have never before deflowered a maiden.”

“Then how do you know if you can manage it?”

He wanted to laugh, and yet…The question was not as absurd as he might have thought. For all his nonchalance, he had never known such innocence, and the prospect disquieted him. He wanted her first experience with lovemaking to be pleasurable and memorable. “I shall give you nothing you don’t ask for voluntarily.”

The words were rich in promise, his voice a husky caress. He turned away then, to permit her to weigh his reassurances.

Taking his time, he drew the velvet drapes across the windows, shutting out the late afternoon sunlight, enveloping them in soft darkness. Then leisurely, he lit a dozen candles in a candelabra, at once transforming the chamber to an intimate haven for lovers, suffused with a quiet golden glow.

His gaze found Sabrina, where she stood riveted to the floor. Slowly he moved toward her, till he was a scant few inches away. Reaching up, he framed her face with his palms, disarming her with his tenderness.

“I want very much for your first time to be good for you…special and fulfilling. I shall be gentle and considerate, I swear it. I will do nothing you are not fully prepared for. Will you trust me, sweetheart?”

His voice was soft and warm, his eyes compelling. Sabrina felt her fear melting.

She nodded slowly.

“Tell me,” he urged.

“I…will trust you.”

The intimate smile he gave her made her feel as if the sun had burst from behind the clouds.

“Your hair…I like it this way.”

The arrangement fell to one side in thick curls. Catching the ends, Niall rubbed it between his fingertips, as if savoring the feel. “Such rich color…texture. But I would like it better flowing free.”

When Sabrina reached up to remove the pins, he gently stilled her hands. “No, allow me the pleasure.”

Her heart beat unevenly as his fingers searched and found his targets. Loosening the heavy mass, he let it fall down her back. Smoothing a stray wisp back from her face, he gently tangled his fingers in the rich fullness.

“You are bonny with your hair down,” he murmured as he bent to brush her mouth with his.

It was a butterfly kiss that seemed to draw her soul from her body. Sabrina stood dazed when Niall drew back and smiled.

“With your permission, I shall play lady’s maid.”

To her startlement then, he sank down to kneel at her feet. One by one he slipped off her shoes, caressing each ankle almost reverently. To maintain her balance, Sabrina had to grasp his shoulder with one hand, but she froze when he reached beneath her petticoats to find the garter that held up her stocking.

Her breath caught as he brushed her bare calf. A frisson of fiery sensation sparked from his fingertips to her skin, yet he seemed too intent on his task to notice. She endured the delicate torment in silence, biting her lip until at last it was over and she stood barefoot.

Then he rose. “And now your gown, sweeting.”

Sabrina’s breath seemed to stop once more.

She tried to pretend indifference as he took her hand and drew her farther into the room, toward the warmth of the fire, but it took every ounce of fortitude she possessed to stand there quietly and submit to his skillful ministrations.

He first removed the stomacher, then the heavy skirt, and carefully draped them both over a chair. The embroidered petticoat-underskirt came next, and finally the beautiful bodice.

He seemed so casual about the whole process, Sabrina thought despondently. As if he had undressed countless ladies before her. It was only when he saw the bandage on her arm that he showed any emotion. His eyes darkened.