‘I prefer the dark.’
‘Please...just one. I don’t want to trip over my own feet.’
He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the last candle. The air was full of the scent of acrid smoke. ‘Fine,’ he said shortly, and turned away. The room was lost in shadow now, the single candle barely piercing the darkness, the shutters closed against the starlit sky.
Milly stared at him through the gloom, her heart still thumping. ‘What now?’
‘What now indeed?’ He let out a hard little laugh. ‘Why don’t we have a glass of champagne?’ Alex reached for the bottle and popped the cork with quick efficiency; there was, Milly thought, nothing remotely celebratory about the sound. He poured a flute full and thrust it to her. ‘This will help.’
‘Help?’ She took the flute and sipped at the crisp bubbles. ‘You make it sound like medicine.’
‘An anaesthetic, perhaps,’ he drawled before draining his own glass.
‘For what? Some procedure?’ Her voice trembled. ‘Is that how you see this?’ She gestured to the empty bed, neatly made up and heaped with pillows.
‘Don’t you?’ Alex challenged, his eyes piercing through the darkness.
‘I... I don’t know,’ she admitted. She felt bound by her own fear. She wasn’t brave enough to admit she wanted more, that she felt something for him, not when he was seeming so forbidding. ‘Surely it’s meant to be somewhat pleasurable.’ She let out an uncertain laugh. ‘You know more than I would, Alex.’
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve had that kind of pleasurable experience,’ he told her sardonically, then he sighed. ‘I’m
only trying to make this easier for you, Milly.’ He nodded towards her glass. ‘Drink up.’
She did, gulping the champagne far too fast so her head started spinning even more. She’d never had much tolerance for alcohol, and she felt it now, her stomach seething both from the champagne and nerves. She watched, her eyes widening, as Alex began to unbutton his shirt.
‘What...what are you doing?’ she practically yelped.
‘Undressing. The marital act requires a certain amount of disrobing.’ His mouth twisted in something like a smile. ‘Are you shocked?’
‘Surprised,’ she corrected, her gaze drawn to the sculpted muscles of his chest as he undid the buttons of his shirt with the same brisk efficiency with which he’d opened the champagne. He was beautifully proportioned, the candlelight burnishing his impressive physique in gold.
‘Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, shall we?’ he remarked. ‘The sooner you become pregnant, the better it will be for both of us.’
She stared at him in dismay, her mind swirling from both his words and the champagne she’d just guzzled on an empty stomach. His hands went to his belt buckle and Milly couldn’t keep from making a little sound of—something. She didn’t even know what she felt. Her body responded to his, but her mind and heart were both in active rebellion. This had to be the most unromantic wedding night she could have ever conceived of...and yet that was why she was here, wasn’t it? To conceive.
Alex nodded to her simple navy-blue shift dress. ‘Do you need help with the zip?’
‘No.’ The word came out more vehement than she intended. She’d known Alex was businesslike, even cold, but she realised now she’d still hoped for some tenderness on their wedding night, some tiny hint of romance or affection. Instead he seemed more clinical than ever.
She turned away from him, fumbling with the zip. Maybe he was right, and they should just get this over with. Clearly he didn’t respond to her the way she did to him, and that should be no surprise. She was plain; she knew that. She’d always known that. If he desired her at all, he surely would have handled this whole evening differently.
And, oh, she wished he had. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back furiously. You agreed to this, she reminded herself silently. None of this should come as a surprise. This was part of the bargain.
The zip snagged halfway down her back and she nearly wrenched her arm trying to pull it down further, letting out a little cry of frustration and despair as it continued to stick.
‘Here.’ Suddenly Alex was next to her, moving swiftly in the dark. She felt the heat of his bare chest, the brush of his arm, and she sucked in a breath as he gently removed her hand from the zipper and then slowly pulled it down himself. She sucked in a hard breath, her whole body hyper-aware as his fingers traced her spine, his breath fanning her neck, the moment spinning into something both taut and tender.
Heat bloomed inside her, unfurling like a precious flower, seeking sunlight. She swayed and he rested his hands on her shoulders; for a heart-stopping second his lips skimmed the nape of her neck and Milly couldn’t keep from making a little mewl of desire. He stilled and she started to lean into him, longing for him to slide his hands from her shoulders to—where? Anywhere. She just wanted to be touched.
‘Milly...’ His voice was an ache, and it made unexpected tears sting her eyes. He pressed his lips against her neck again, this time in the curve of her shoulder, and she shuddered, arching her neck so he could have greater access.
For a second it seemed as if anything, everything were possible; as if a whole world of experience and emotion shimmered before them. His hands tightened on her shoulders and his lips moved on her skin. A shiver of longing rippled through her.
Then, all of a sudden, Alex lifted his head, dropped his hands, and stepped away. Milly half turned to him, conscious of her dress pooling about her waist, the longing that had rippled through her still licking at her senses.
‘Alex...?’
‘We should get this over with.’ Alex walked towards the bed, slipping off his trousers while she watched uncertainly. Why had the mood changed, plunged suddenly from sweetness to sensibility, or something worse? Cold, clinical business. Again.