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“Kiss me, Victoria. I will accept that as my prize.” He clasped her arms and drew her gently against him. “Tilt up your head. Yes, that’s all right. Part your lips just a bit. Excellent. Now, all you have to do is just respond to me as you always do, and no holding back.”
She responded, just as she always did.
It didn’t occur to her to do any holding back.
He held her then, not moving, forcing his hands to remain still on her back. “This is enjoyable,” he said.
“Yes, it is quite a surprise that you too enjoy graveyards.”
“No, I was referring to our kissing.”
“I need more practice.”
He stiffened at her words but forced himself to relax. He had found himself wondering why she kept her lips firmly closed when he’d kissed her before. It was as if she were completely inexperienced . . . and he mustn’t forget that she was, that he had told her he trusted her, believed her. “I’ll teach you everything,” he said at last, gave her a squeeze, and released her. “Shall we return to Honeycutt Cottage and prepare our dinner?”
She nodded. “We mustn’t forget about Tom.”
“Actually, I gave him a holiday as well. He and Mrs. Ripple will return day after tomorrow, Friday morning. We will leave for Drago Hall in the afternoon.”
She nodded, but she wasn’t at all happy about it. Drago Hall meant Damien and Elaine, and neither of them wanted her there.
Victoria grew more and more nervous as the late afternoon dwindled into evening. She didn’t want to cook. She wanted to hide. She didn’t want to be near her husband, but it seemed that he was there, wherever she happened to be, and there was that look in his eyes that made her flush to her hairline.
“Just a light dinner, Victoria?”
She hadn’t turned a page in her book for the past half-hour, but she still jumped when he spoke suddenly. “Yes, that’s fine, Rafael. You came in so quietly, you startled me.”
“I learned many times over that my hide depended on how quiet I was. Lyon once called me as silent as a big cat. I laughed, of course. He’s the one with the name for that, not I. Don’t be nervous, Victoria. You will enjoy yourself, I swear it. Remember that I’m magic, all right?”
“You have an excellent opinion of yourself, that is certain.”
“I believe I should like dinner now. Fruit, cheese, and the remains of our bread?”
“But it’s not even dark yet.”
He said in a tone of infinite patience, “My dear wife, it isn’t dark until after seven-thirty. If I kept my hands off you until then, half the night would be gone. Now, don’t argue with me. Come to the kitchen.”
As she rose, the hem of her skirt caught on a splinter of wood on the chair leg. It yanked her back, pulling her off balance. She fell heavily onto her lame leg. It gave way in an instant and she tumbled to the floor.
Rafael was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right? Good grief, Victoria, what the devil happened?”
She wouldn’t look at him, she couldn’t. She was too mortified. She’d conveniently forgotten about her wretched leg and now she’d made a clumsy fool of herself in front of him. “Nothing, I just slipped.”
He helped her to her feet and she sent thanks heavenward that her leg didn’t give out again. “I’m sometimes not very graceful,” she said, looking down at the deep red swirls in the Aubusson carpet. “I hope you will forgive that.”
He gave her a bewildered look. “You, not graceful? Don’t be an idiot, Victoria. Everyone stumbles occasionally, even your perfect husband. Now, are you truly all right?”
She nodded. She didn’t realize that she was rubbing her leg until Rafael said, “Would you like me to take a look? Did you bruise your leg?”
Her hand fell away as if she’d been touching a hot oven. “Oh, no, I’m fine. This is foolish, really.”
He’d asked her so many times what her confession was. Now it appeared that she would have to tell him. She didn’t want to. What he thought of her was too tenuous. She was afraid.
Rafael, for his part, put down her nonsensical behavior to her nervousness about bedding with him. He thought it rather endearing.
Victoria had slowly and thoroughly chewed her last piece of bread before she said, her words a tumbled rush, “I want you to have the lights out, please.”
He paused with the slice of delicious local cheese halfway to his mouth. “It’s only six o’clock. It won’t matter if the lights are on or off. It won’t be dark, as I told you, until after seven-thirty.”
