Page 90 of To Pleasure a Prince

He was her husband now. There was no going back.

Thank heaven.

Chapter Nineteen

Teach your charge well, or when she is grown, she will abandon your teachings.

—Miss Cicely Tremaine,The Ideal Chaperone

Long after Regina had drifted off to sleep, Marcus lay awake. At last he possessed the woman he’d craved for weeks. He’d assumed that taking her to bed would dull the keen edge of his desire for her, but it hadn’t. Even now, he wanted to bury himself inside her again, to wake her with kisses so he could taste her and fondle her and—

No, she needed rest and a few hours to recuperate from his frenzied lovemaking. He could only hope that the force of his need hadn’t alarmed her. What if it sent her running back to London to more urbane companions?

As that dour thought threatened to poison his contentment, he deliberately buried his nose in her tousled hair to breathe her heady scent.

Somehow it soothed him. He believed that she had enjoyed their lovemaking, frenzied or no. Once they’d made it past the difficult part, she’d thrown herself into it with all the enthusiasm a man could hope for.

She burrowed closer to him, and he wrapped her in his embrace. Only then was he able to sleep.

Dawn was streaking the sky when the sound of music woke him. Harp music.

Great God, he’d died and gone to heaven. And after only one rapturous night with Regina, too.

Cracking an eye open, he saw he was still at Illyria. Yet he heard harp music. Until a distinctly feminine curse sounded, and the music broke off.

That brought him fully awake. He sat up and spotted his wife not far from the bed. Seated on a stool, she was adjusting something on the harp while she mumbled to herself.

And she was completely naked. Exactly as she’d been in his dream.

His cock came fully awake, too. “I hope you plan to wake me like this every day.” He tossed the covers aside and left the bed, delighted and relieved to discover that his nighttime fears had been for naught.

She glanced up, startled, then frowned at him. “I regret to inform you that your dream about my playing the harp naked shall have to stay a dream. Playing a harp naked is decidedly too impractical.”

She looked so put out by that discovery that he smothered his laugh. “Oh?” he said as he stalked toward her.

“I’ve scraped my knees twice on the dratted thing,” she complained. “And this carved wood is rubbing my shoulder raw—”

“We wouldn’t want that.” As he passed it, he pulled the harp forward to rest upright instead of in the usual playing position. Then he came up behind her. “Though I must admit, it makes for a fetching picture.” He bent to kiss her neck.

“So did my gown. And you saw how wellthatworked.”

Chuckling, he dropped his hand to caress her breast. She sucked in a sharp breath, then leaned into his hand.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Scooping her off the stool, he carried her back to the bed. “Then we’ll have to manage without the harp and the gown. All right?”

Her answer was to lift her mouth for his kiss.

Sometime later, after they were sated and lying in naked contentment, he drew her into his embrace. She went willingly, resting her head upon his chest.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you, dearling,” he murmured. “I should have given you more time to recover from last night.”

“If I’d wanted that,” she replied, pulling the counter-pane up to cover them both, “I would not have awakened you by playing the harp naked. Besides, you did not hurt me. In fact…” A giggle escaped her.

“What are you laughing at?”

“My friends. They’re such ninnies. You should have heard what they told me about their wedding nights. They had me half-convinced mine would be awful.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I hope that means it wasn’t.”