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She slapped him on the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but it definitely got his attention. “I meant how would you do…’it’.”
He remembered her reference to animals and smiled despite himself. “There are many ways for a man and woman to enjoy each other, but this first time, I think I’ll settle on the standard.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Tenderness overwhelmed him. It must’ve just about killed her to admit that. His wife was a proud woman, and he was a jackass for teasing her. He resumed his stroking of her hair. “Basically, you lie on your back and I come over you.” He cleared his throat, feeling the back of his neck heating. “Between your legs,” he clarified.
“Oh.”
“Do you have anymore questions?”
She nodded.
“What then?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait?”
After talking about it this long, she’d be lucky if he waited until he got to the bed. “I’m positive.”
“Then could we just get it over with?”
He slid the straps of her camisole off her shoulders. “I hate to burst your bubble, darlin’, but a thorough man doesn’t hurry on his wedding night.”
If he hadn’t found it so amusing, her softly uttered “rats” would have ground his confidence into dust.
Chapter Four
No, Elizabeth decided as Asa stared at her bosom, he definitely wasn’t a hurrying man. She’d had her eyes closed for three counts of fifty, and he still hadn’t progressed past the looking part. She took a deep breath. It caught halfway down her parched throat and sent her into a coughing fit. She would have latched onto the distraction if her husband hadn’t decided to cure her fit with well-placed slaps between her shoulder blades, the first of which sent her straight into dangerous territory. The bed.
She hovered on the brink of indecision. The second slap sent her plopping down onto the mattress. The corn husks rasped in tune with her labored breathing. From the corner of her eye, she saw Asa’s concerned frown and upraised hand.
“Water,” she managed between chokes.
“Of course.” He was out of the room as quickly as he’d entered. In the seconds before he returned, she managed to yank up her camisole and wrap the coverlet around her torso. She took the glass he offered. The cool water eased her throat. She wished it could do the same for her nerves. “Thank you.”
She would have held onto the glass for whatever protection it offered, but he took it from her. “You’re welcome.”
His gaze fell to the coverlet hiding her bosom from view. She couldn’t read his expression, but not for one minute did she want him to think she was afraid. “I was cold.”
The way his lips quirked made mincemeat of her ruse. “Then why don’t you slide under the covers, darlin’?”
Because she was stalling, and they both knew it. “I wouldn’t want to start another coughing fit.”
“No,” he agreed, setting the glass on the bed stand. “We wouldn’t want that.”
The quirk of his lips was definitely a grin. She didn’t care. He could laugh at her all he wanted as long as he was willing to indulge her.
“Well,” she began, only to decide she didn’t know where to go with the conversation. She shifted her weight on the mattress. The corn husks whispered a protest. Asa took it as an invitation. Their protest was twice as loud when he sat beside her. Her breath caught when he slid an arm around her waist and she forced it out as he tugged her against his side. She would not be a coward about this. She’d made a deal and she’d live up to her end. She held perfectly still for his next move.
“I don’t suppose you’d feel any better if I told you that what’s going to happen between us is perfectly natural? That our bodies are made to fit together?” he asked.
“No.”
The side of his chest pushed against her shoulder as he sighed. “I didn’t think so.”
His hand pressed against her head. She resisted, but he kept at it until her cheek found the hollow of his shoulder. She didn’t know why the man thought that holding her close was going to soothe her, but he did.
“I’m not comfortable,” she said.
“Then relax.”
Since it was either that or have her neck snap, she did. A quick peek showed his gaze fastened on the flame of the oil lamp. His hand began stroking her hair. Gentle, light touches that started awkward but soon changed to comfortable. The silence stretched as tight as her nerves.
“I don’t have any choice in this,” he said, an apology coached in the bald statement. “You could wake up tomorrow and change your mind.”
“Yes.” And the ranch would go to the bank next month. She wouldn’t have her home. She would have failed in her duty, and she would have failed herself. Lord, she was weak enough to think, as a solution, it wasn’t so bad.
