Page 40 of The Mister I Married

Alex led Emmy up the stairs, stealing glances at her as she took in her surroundings, and not for the first time today, he wondered what was going on inside that head of hers.

Her demeanor had been odd all day. Not cross, exactly, but certainly quiet, and a quiet Emmy made him uncomfortable. He assumed the reason for her reserve was the changes her life was taking, which would make anyone uneasy, but he’d had no chance to ask her, and he’d been on tenterhooks all day because of it.

“You’ve made my father very happy,” he said as they reached the top of the stairs. He paused there and turned to face her. “Thank you again for agreeing to come. I know you would rather have stayed in London.”

Emmy gave him a small smile. “It was the right decision.”

Alex nodded, though her answer did not satisfy. Perhaps it had been the right decision, but was she glad she’d made it? Or did she already regret it?

The question hovered on his tongue, but he hesitated, torn between his desire to know and his fear of her answer.

In the end, cowardice won out and he set off again, leading her up the corridor in silence.

“Here we are,” he said, pausing in front of her bedchamber door, his mild tone of voice belying his roiling nerves. “I hope this chamber will be sufficient for you.”

He turned the knob and pushed open the door. Emmy stepped into the spacious room, inspecting it in silence, her expression giving nothing away.

“As mistress of the house, you are entitled to the mistress’s chambers,” Alex said. “But that would require asking my father to move from the master’s chamber, and I did not have the heart to ask him to give it up.” He extended a hand toward the wall to his left. “My chamber is just next door.”

Emmy nodded, though she would not meet his gaze, and that polite smile was still maddeningly in place. “I am certain this room will be more than sufficient, thank you.”

Alex stepped inside, clasping his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat. “Emmy,” he said quietly, “is something troubling you? You seem…not yourself. Are you unwell?”

She turned away, showing him her back as she ran a hand over the emerald silk coverlet on the bed. “It’s only nerves. All this change and newness has me feeling a bit askew, that’s all.”

Alex frowned. “You seemed fine a few minutes ago with my father and Tess.” He took another step toward her but stilled when her back stiffened. “Is it me?” he asked. “Have I done something to upset you?”

The question was met with weighted silence, and then: “I am not upset.”

His frown deepened. “Then what are you?” Because she was certainly something.

She did not answer for another long moment and then her shoulders sagged with a defeated sigh. “I’m confused,” she said, turning to face him. “And a little hurt, if I’m honest.” For some reason, that made her grimace, and her cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t going to admit that part.”

“Hurt?” Alex parroted. “Over what?” He slipped his hands in his pockets, racking his brain for what he might have done to hurt her, but nothing came to him.

“I spent our wedding night with your sister, Alex,” she said, exasperation in her voice. “I understand why you wanted me to stay with her, and I also understand that our union was not a love match, but I thought…when you kissed me…” She sighed again, the color in her cheeks deepening to scarlet. “Well, I thought you enjoyed it.”

For several sluggish heartbeats, Alex could do nothing but stare at her, utterly gobsmacked.

God’s teeth, she thought he didn’t desire her.

The notion would have been laughable had he felt like laughing.

“I did enjoy it,” he said, the words an awkward rasp. “I’ve thought of little else since.”

Her gray eyes narrowed but she did not argue, apparently unconvinced yet not entirely unreceptive, so Alex pressed on, his heart thudding with the unease of impending confession.

“I’d have liked nothing more than to spend our wedding night together, but I wanted better than a roadside inn for your first time.” He paused. “And my own.”

She blinked at him, her lips parting as his words sank in. “Your first…” She frowned. “Do you mean to say you’ve never…” Her hands flailed as if grasping for the words.

“No.” He shook his head. “Never.”

“Oh.”

“Most men my age have, I suppose, but the notion of paying a courtesan—a stranger—to satisfy my needs never held any appeal.” He stepped forward, taking Emmy’s hands in his. “You appeal to me. Put plainly, I lust for you. I want to make love to you tonight, and if you wish to make love with me, I promise I will do everything in my power to make it a satisfying experience for you.”

He wished he could guarantee a night of unbridled ecstasy, but he never had been one for making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. He would aim for ecstasy and hope for the best. And if the experience was at least mostly pleasurable for her, he would have to be happy with that. For his first attempt, at least.