Another curt nod.
“Isabella.” He gently took her hand; it was cold. “Please look at me.”
She obliged, and there was no mistaking the fear in her wide eyes. She wasn’t ready. In a way, neither was he.
“I’m not a beast. I’m not going to jump on you. Don’t be afraid of me.”
“I know. I’m nervous. That’s all.”
“No need to be.” He kissed her hand before releasing it. No hug then. “Good night.” He stood up.
She grabbed his hand with the desperation of someone drowning. “Don’t leave.”
Puzzled, he sat down again. She tugged at his hand until he leant closer to her.
“What is it?” he asked.
She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him. The cover slipped down, and the sweet softness of her body pressed against his. He held her, caressing her back until she stopped shivering.
“You can trust me,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“Why are you so scared?”
No answer.
“You must be tired.” He straightened, getting away from her. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She gripped his hand again. “Can’t you stay? Please.”
There was a quiver in her voice he didn’t like.
“Of course.”
He tucked her in the bed and stroked her head. She snuggled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Even though he was tired, he couldn’t sleep but listened to her soft breathing in the darkness. The turmoil bothering him was finally silent. He smiled because his wedding night couldn’t be more perfect.
There was no hurry, and he could wait.
