"We're home, sweetheart," he said quietly as he stepped over the threshold.
"It feels weird."
"Good or bad?" He turned towards the stairs, his arms holding her possessively.
"Good. This is now my home."
"Yes." He bounded up the stairs easily and turned towards the master bedroom suite. He had encouraged her to make changes to the completely masculine gold and blue décor, but she was not ready to change anything yet.
Placing her on the massive king-sized bed, he knelt to take off her shoes and started rubbing her feet. "You danced up a storm."
"I enjoyed myself immensely. Except--" When her voice petered off, he looked up, his expression darkening.
"The part where my own father put hands on you. I wanted to smash his face in for touching you like that."
Placing two fingers vertically over his lips, she shook her head. "It's our wedding night and I want nothing to spoil it."
"You're right." Privately, he vowed that he was going to have it out with the old man, once and for all.
"I had champagne and some of the cake delivered along with the mountain of gifts." His eyes glimmered in amusement. "I hope you don't expect me to be part of the unwrapping."
"Since they have both our names, it means you get roped in whether you like it or not."
"I was afraid so." He reached up her thighs to slide the silk of her stockings off her legs, fingers lingering. "I know I already removed your garters, but I did not get to do this."
"Do what?"
He showed her instead, fingers sliding over her skin. Lifting her left foot, he propped it on his shoulder and turned his head to kiss her instep. She watched with bated breath as his lips trailed over the silkiness of her calf.
"We should have some champagne," she breathed.
"Delaying the inevitable, Mrs. Collier?"
It thrilled her to be addressed that way. "Only just a little bit." She was nervous for some unknown reason. Forcing himself to be patient, he reminded himself that after all, he was here at the finish line. She was his wife, the woman he had been waiting for what seemed like forever. She was here in his bedroom, their bedroom. He could afford to wait a few minutes.
Rising, he left the room to go and get the champagne and cake. It gave her a chance to change out of the dress and into something more comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, she hopped off the bed and pulled the zipper down, thankful that the rows of tiny pearl buttons were just for show.
She and Monique had scoured the lingerie department looking for the right one and had found something: a sinuous, supple silk that was as light as water. The color was a shade between green and blue, the style deceptively simple, and it was so transparent, nothing was hidden.
Lifting her hands, she got rid of the pins and shook her hair free. It rained down her back and framed her face.
He had a tray in his hands and was forced to walk backwards so he could push the doors open. "I brought more than two slices,"he began. "I noticed how much you enjoyed--" He turned around then and the rest of the words were lost somewhere in his throat.
He stood rooted to the spot, the saliva drying up as he stared at her. When he had witnessed her walking towards him this afternoon, he had thought she could not be real, that the vision coming towards him was surely an apparition, a figment of his fevered imagination.
The woman in front of him now was startlingly real, seductive and sexy, provocative and so alluring that he wondered how he did not die right here on the spot. The material outlined every lush curve of her slender body. Her hair was flowing down her back, and an unconsciously provocative smile was on her lips.
He wasn't going to last; the thought filtered through his mind. He had planned for a seduction that would take hours, but seeing her like this, he knew instinctively that he was not going to survive.
When it became clear that he wasn't capable of moving, she did.
"I thought I would get comfortable." She took the tray from his nerveless fingers and set it aside. "I also thought I would take the initiative." He had removed his suit jacket and tie and had unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. She handled the rest.
"I'm not good at this game. But you're my husband and I think it's time I learned. I cannot have you doing all the work."
"Catherine--" his voice was decidedly strained.