Free The Wedding of the Century & Other Stories by Mary Jo Putney, Kristin James, Charlotte Featherstone

ever be anything else.” She swallowed hard. “Only now, when it’s too late, does it occur to me that I don’t really want to be married to anyone.”
    Though she claimed that he was not the problem, it was hard not to take her comments personally. Feeling a chill deep inside, he lowered his hands and said carefully, “What do you want me to do—set you up in a separate establishment so that you never have to see me? File for an annulment on the grounds that your mother coerced you into marriage against your will?”
    She looked shocked. “Oh, no, of course not. I pledged my word today, and that can’t be undone. I will do my best to be a good wife to you—but I don’t know if I will succeed.”
    Some of the pain in his chest eased. As long as they were together, there was hope for building a loving marriage.
    Though he had been counting the hours until they could be together, he said, “We needn’t share a bed tonight, when you’re so tired. It might be better to wait a few days until you’re more at ease with me.”
    She hesitated, clearly tempted, before she shook her head. “I think it will be best to get it over with. Waiting will only give me more time to worry.”
    He wanted to make love to his wife, and she wanted to “get it over with,” like a tooth extraction. Dear God, this was not what he had dreamed of. Yet perhaps she was right. Once she learned that intercourse was not as bad as she feared, she could relax and find pleasure in physical intimacy.
    Yet he could not quite suppress the fear that his wife might never come to welcome his touch. He had been concerned ever since Augusta had ordered him to try to control his beastly animal nature. Obviously Augusta had loathed her own marital duties, and there was a strong possibility that she had passed her distaste on to her daughter.
    His mouth tightened. Brooding would solve nothing. If his wife wanted the marriage consummated tonight, he would oblige—partly because it might be the wisest course, but more because he wanted her with an intensity that was painful.
    â€œCome then, my dear.” He untied the ribbons of her negligee and pushed it from her shoulders so that she was clad only in a sheer silk nightgown that revealed more of her tantalizing curves than it concealed. He drew a shaky breath. It was how he had dreamed of her—and at the same time, it was utterly wrong, for she looked at him with the despairing eyes of a wounded doe.
    She colored under his hungry gaze and glanced away. “Could you…would you turn the lamps out?”
    Though he yearned to see her unclothed, he said, “As you wish.”
    As he put out the lights, she drew the curtains so that the windows were covered and the room became suffocatingly dark. Then she climbed into the bed with a faint creak of springs.
    After removing his robe, he located the bed by touch and slid in beside her. He would have liked to take his nightshirt off, as well, but a man’s naked body might upset her more, even in the dark and under blankets.
    He drew her into his arms and kissed her with all the tenderness he had been yearning to lavish on her. Though she did not reject him, her mouth was locked shut and her whole frame was tense and unyielding. No amount of patient skill on his part could soften her; in fact, his feather kisses and gentle stroking seemed to make her more rigid. He felt as if he was trying to ravish a vestal virgin. Despairing, he pushed himself up with one arm and said hoarsely, “This isn’t right.”
    â€œPlease, just do it,” she said, an edge of hysteria in her voice.
    His better nature surrendered, for despite his doubts, his body was hotly ready, burning for completion. He reached for the lotion he had provided to ease this first union.
    She gasped when he raised the hem of her gown, separated her legs and touched her intimately. He hoped that she might