Free Corrected by the Colonel by Celeste Jones Page A

thing?
              He laid her back gently against the upholstered seat of the carriage and gazed down upon her. Cassandra emerged from the daze of passion to realize the bodice of her dress was bunched around her waist, her hair had fallen into loose clumps around her shoulders, and her breasts were bared like a woman in a Greek painting.
              Shocked, she covered her breasts with her hands.
              Blaise, his eyes darkened by passion, smiled down at her while he gently removed her hands. "Oh no, little Cassie, you are mine. All mine. To look at whenever I wish it. And I expect to wish it very often, so you had better get used to it."
              She ought to have been outraged. Yes, she ought to have been. Instead, the river of molten desire forming in her femininity heated up even more and she rolled her hips in invitation.
              Blaise trailed a finger across her collar bone and then down to tease the tip of each breast in turn. "All in due time, my little wife." He suckled one nipple and then the other. "All in due time."
     
    ***
     
              It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to shuck his pants and take her right there on the carriage seat. She lay across the bench so compliant, so innocent. So his.
              He imagined plunging into the soft folds of her maidenhead. Sliding in and out, taking her virginity. Teaching her the ways of men and women.
              But no. The first time they made love, and he expected to do it as soon and as often as possible, would not be in the back of a carriage. Cassandra was his wife, not some two bit whore who trailed along after his troops.
              Her creamy, innocent flesh called to him, as did the wild look in her eyes, but he replaced her clothing, lifted her to his lap, and attempted to repair the damage to her coiffure.
              Embarrassed by her wanton display, Cassandra kept her eyes focused on the carriage floor. Blaise used his finger to tip her chin and force her to meet his gaze. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Cassandra. We are man and wife. Soon we shall share our bodies in the ways married people do. I intend for it to be enjoyable for us both. But, you must trust me."
              She had a hard time meeting his gaze and a charming flush colored her cheeks. "Do you promise to trust me, little Cassie?"
              She looked into his eyes and paused for a moment. "Yes," she whispered.
    Chapter Eight
              Trust. Could she trust Colonel Blaise Sinclair? She wanted to, but her burdens, her duties and her responsibilities were too much to thrust upon another. She had been carrying them for so long, it was as though they were a part of her and the idea of casting them aside felt as foreign as removing a limb.
              She watched the countryside pass by outside the window, though even the lush scenery could not distract her. How soon would she get word from her sister? Was her father still alive? Had her sisters been cast out of their home? Surely it was only a matter of time.
              She peeked at Blaise from below her lashes. It felt disloyal to wish she hadn't married him. And dishonest. Yet, only someone with the wealth of Owen Tyndall could have saved her family, she was sure of it. She had lost that opportunity and though she ventured to hope she and Blaise could be happy together in marriage, that did nothing to assist her sisters.
              She dared not even think about her father.
              A single tear snuck out of the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. Before she could wipe it away, Blaise captured her in his lap again and kissed it away.
              "Are you sad, little Cassie?" His soft voice coaxed. "On your wedding day?"
              "I am sorry," she sniffed. "It is just that I am worried about my family." She inhaled a shuddering