Free Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] by An Arranged Mariage Page A

violence. You, of course, want nothing to do with any of those vices. As your husband, I approve most heartily." There was nothing except lazy amusement to be heard in his voice. When, she wondered, did the transformation to monster begin?
    He raised her hand to his warm mouth and kissed it. That was no different than the two previous times. Then he took her index finger into the moist warmth of his mouth and nibbled gently at it, his tongue playing over the tip. It was a most extraordinary sensation...
    With a shudder, Eleanor pulled her hand away. He made no objection.
    "Tell me, Eleanor. When was the last time anyone held you in their arms? When was the last time you hugged anyone with joy or grief?"
    She wished desperately he would stop this and just do it. The silence, however, demanded an answer.
    "Long ago," she said, searching her memory. "My nanny. I had a puppy once. What does it matter?"
    "Oh, it matters. It is one of the greatest joys. Come into my arms and hold me, Eleanor."
    That frightened her more than an attack. "I can't," she whispered.
    Gently he persuaded her, coaxed her. If she did not exactly move of her own volition still she found herself gathered up and enveloped in tender warmth.
    Her hand touched smooth flesh.
    He was naked!
    Automatically she pulled back.
    "Terrible lack of foresight, I know," he said soothingly, keeping firm arms around her. "I haven't possessed a nightshirt for years. I venture to suggest, however, that your nightgown could do service for the two of us."
    It was true. The bunched folds prevented contact except beneath her clenched hand. All she felt of his body was soft firmness and warmth. His hands worked subtle magic on her back, and his voice gentled her mind.
    Eleanor relaxed.
    Of its own accord, it seemed, her hand eased open and curved around his ribs. Her head found a natural place in the hollow of his shoulder, and the rest of her body seemed to settle comfortably to the contours of his. Very faintly she could sense his heart, slow and steady beneath her ear.
    It was the most wonderful sensation she could ever remember.
    Then she started to cry. Because she tried to prevent them, the tears were harsh and painful. Embarrassed, she tried to move away from him, but his arms stayed gently firm.
    "No Eleanor, cry. Cry, my dear, if you want to." His hand moved up to rub at the back of her neck and she gave in and let the tears stream out.
    After a while, drained, she found herself choking out details of her life. She told him of the rejection by her parents, of her anger, her rebellion, and her war with her brother. An ecstasy of painful release was followed by acute embarrassment.
    "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What am I doing? You must—"
    He silenced her with a light kiss. "You can put all these things behind you now," he said. "They are over. But if you wish to speak of them again you may always talk to me. That's what husbands are for. And for holding onto for comfort. And to make sure that life will be better. That is my wedding vow to you, Eleanor. Things will be better. Do you believe me?"
    With a sniff, Eleanor nodded. She detached herself, and this time he made no effort to stop her. She sat up and fumbled on the bedside table for her handkerchief and blew her nose. Then she turned to look at him.
    Her eyes had adjusted to the dim firelight and she could see him a little. Still no monster. Just a very kind man who had even, she noticed, rearranged the bedding to cover most of his body. He smiled a simple smile of friendship and a tentative bud began to unfurl within her.
    It was hope.
    She slid down shyly to seek again the comfort of his arms. Her emotions were in turmoil, but she recognized what he had said. Now she had someone, someone of her own.
    "I cannot promise you total happiness, Eleanor," he said, and there was a note of seriousness in his voice. It was a warning, and she heeded it. But she had never expected total happiness. She had not expected even a fragment