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“Are you a virgin?”
Mercy’s mouth dropped open before she tilted her head higher. “No.”
Gray’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she looked at him, thoroughly confused. “Is that a problem?” she asked him.
“Hell no!” he said so loudly she laughed. He broke into a grin. “Sorry. I just…I wouldn’t have any idea what to do with a virgin.”
Mercy raised a brow. “I expect the same thing you’d do with someone who wasn’t. Just, a little more carefully.”
Gray snorted. “Point taken.”
She regarded him for a moment and then shook her head. “You truly don’t mind?”
“No, I meant it. I’m relieved.”
“Well, that’s a first,” she muttered.
At his questioning glance, she sighed. “The first man I was with was my fiancé. I was sixteen. Young, naïve. In love.” She shook her head. “We didn’t wait until the wedding night. And then he broke off the engagement. Said he couldn’t marry a girl who would give herself away before being wed.”
Gray gaped at her, truly astounded. “He was an asshole.”
That surprised a sharp laugh out of her. “That he was.”
“And since then?” he asked. He didn’t want to pry, but knowing exactly how experienced she was would help him out a lot.
She looked out ahead of them, watching the land slip by as they rode. “There was another since then. Not great. But I know what to expect.”
Gray grunted. Hardly a rousing recommendation of her past lovers. But at least she wasn’t a total novice. At the basics, in any case. He might have his work cut out for him.
Though, this was definitely one time he didn’t mind at all.
They pulled into the courtyard of Mercy’s house, and Gray hopped down, hurrying around to the other side of the wagon so he could help her. He raised his arms and after a second’s hesitation on her part, she put her hands on his shoulders so he could lower her to the ground. Which he did as slowly as possible. For one, he didn’t want to drop her. But mostly, he wanted to feel her as she slid down his body to the ground. Wanted her to feel him. And from the glazed look in her eyes by the time her toes touched the ground, she had.
“Welcome home, wife.”
She shivered in his arms, though the night wasn’t cold. And judging by the heated look in her eyes it had nothing to do with fear. A flash of pure male pride that he could cause that reaction in her with little more than a few words had him swinging her into his arms again so he could carry her into the house.
“What are you doing?” she asked, clinging to his shoulders.
“Carrying the bride over the threshold is a tradition, I believe.”
“Yes, but you really don’t have to…”
“Mercy.”
“What?”
“Just shut up and let me carry you into the house.”
She narrowed her eyes, but the corners of her lips were pulling into a smile. And she stopped trying to argue. Probably the fastest she’d ever conceded an argument. He had no notions such a miracle would continue, but he’d enjoy it while it lasted.
It turned out it was more difficult to enter a house with your arms full than he’d thought. She finally reached down and opened the door, giving it a good shove as she did so. He turned sideways so they’d fit through the door and then kicked it closed behind them. And then…he stood there. Holding his wife in his arms in the home that had been hers but was now, permanently,theirs.
His heart thudded in his chest, hard enough she could probably feel it beneath her fingertips. But he still didn’t put her down.
She glanced at him, brows raised. “I think you can put me down now.”
He grinned and held her tighter. “I don’t know. I think I kind of like you like this.”
