Free The Marriage Bed by Laura Lee Guhrke Page B

mur mured , the first words she had spoken in the hour and a half they had been together. She took several steps into the room and made a slow turn, staring about her in complete surprise.
    John watched her, tense, wondering if she would notice the first thing that had struck him about this room.
    "Pink wallpaper," she murmured, confirming that she had, indeed, noticed. She looked at him in disbelief. "You leased a house with pink wallpaper."
    "It is crimson, Viola," he said, contradicting her, "not pink."
    "Crimson?" she cried, shaking her head. "Oh, no, no, Hammond , that won't do. It is pink. Rose-pink." To his utter astonishment, she smiled. It was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Even more astonishing, she began to laugh, a low chuckle deep in her throat. " John Hammond, of all men, with a pink drawing room. Who would have thought it?"
    He stared at her, feeling rooted to the floor as he listened to her laughter. It was something he had not heard in years, yet it was so familiar. No woman laughed like Viola, low and throaty like that. So wicked, and so erotic, and from a woman who looked like an angel, that laugh had always been able to arouse him in the space of a heartbeat. It still did. He felt desire flaring up inside him with sudden, unexpected force.
    " Hammond , whatever is the matter?" she asked as he continued to stare at her while arousal coursed through his body, thick and and warm.
    "I remember that sound," he murmured. "I always loved the way you laugh."
    Her laughter stopped. Her smile faded. The grandfather clock began to chime, and she looked away. " Four o'clock already?" she said, and started toward the door. "You had best show me the rest quickly. Lady Fitzhugh's dinner party begins at eight, and I must return to Grosvenor Square and change."
    He forced down the lust that had flared up so suddenly, but could not stop hearing that low, throaty chuckle in his mind as they started up to the second floor. Viola's erotic laugh. How could he ever have forgotten the sound of it and what it did to him?
    At the second floor, he turned left and led her down a short corridor. "Our suite of rooms is here," he said, opening a door about halfway down the corridor. "This one will be yours. Mine adjoins it."
    Viola hesitated a moment, then stepped into the bedchamber. She glanced around at the grayish -blue walls, darker blue draperies and walnut furnishings, but expressed no opinion of the room.
    "Repaint if you like," he said, following her through the doorway and moving to stand beside her. "I know you do not care for blue walls," he went on, glancing at her as he spoke, "so—"
    He broke off, watching her as she stared straight ahead, saw the sudden hardness in her face and the way her brows drew together. He heard the rustle of straw and looked down to see that she was clenching the brim of her hat so tightly the straw was crumpling in her gloved hand.
    Following her gaze across the room, he realized she was looking through the doorway into his bedchamber. He returned his attention to her as she stared at the bed itself, a wide comfortable affair with thick feather mattresses, fat down pillows, and maroon velvet coverlet. There was no mistaking the pain in her face.
    He felt impelled to speak. "Since I have lived here, no woman has slept in these rooms, Viola."
    She turned away without replying and walked to the walnut armoire. Her back to him, she opened it and began to examine the empty interior as if it were a matter of vast importance.
    He wished he could think of something to say that would make her laugh again. He wished she would say something—talk about the furnishings, mention she liked the Gainsborough on the wall, say that yes, she would repaint this room— anything. When she did speak, her question caught him completely off guard.
    "What is your intention, Hammond ?" she asked without turning around. When the three weeks are over, and if I do not fight you in the House, and if we resume