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Chapter 33
Olivia gazed around the unfamiliar room, feeling ill. The room was located in one of the most exclusive hotels in London and had been booked for their wedding night. It was one thing that Alexander had been strangely insistent upon. He had left the rest of the wedding plans to her grandfather and mother, but he had wanted them to do this for their wedding night.
They had booked two rooms with an adjoining door. An entire suite. And now she was waiting for her new husband to open that adjoining door and join her. She was waiting for her wedding night to truly begin.
They had dined in the hotel’s dining room before retiring upstairs to their chambers. There had been very little conversation and long silences at the table. He had apologised again for the carriage accident, which she had brushed aside. Then she had become conscious of the longing looks he was giving her. Eventually, he had leaned across the table, whispering intently.
“Can we forego dessert?” he asked, his blue eyes filled with a fervent light. “It has been a long day.”
She had blushed, nodding quickly. His meaning was obvious. And now, here she was, waiting for him, dressed in the white lace nightgown especially made for this night, her long dark curls hanging down her back. She felt vulnerable, exposed, in a way she never had before. This would be the very first time any man would see her in such a state of undress.
To distract herself, she gazed around the room again. It was lined with green patterned wallpaper. A huge four poster mahogany bed stood in the centre of it. Her heart started thumping harder. What was about to happen on that bed?
Her mother had talked to her last night about what to expect. She had said it hurt a little to start with, but if they were slow and tender, it would turn into a joy.
“You are both in love, so it shall be wonderful,” Lady Henrietta had concluded, her eyes moist with tears. “Do not be afraid, my darling. Intimacy between man and wife is one of the greatest joys in this life.”
Olivia could not tell her mother that it was not the love match she imagined. And now, she wondered how she was going to endure a loveless marriage. Or at least, how she could endure being in love with him when he was not with her. She was still resolved to trying to make it work. She must push her fear aside and hope for the best. There was still a small chance that he may fall in love with her, was there not?
Her mother’s words were echoing in her mind when the adjoining door opened at long last. Alexander stepped into the room. He was not wearing his wedding clothes any longer. But neither was he wearing a nightshirt. Instead, he was in plain britches, unbuttoned at the top. Most alarmingly of all, he was not wearing anything on top at all. He was bare chested.
Olivia gaped at him. It was the very first time she had seen a man in such a state of undress. His shoulders and chest were so broad and his arms rippling with tight muscles. His skin was golden and smooth, save for the smattering of dark curling hair on his chest, which veered to a thin line down the length of his smooth abdomen, before vanishing beneath his britches.
He was magnificent. Beautiful. The very epitome of masculine power and beauty.
She could not breathe. Desire swept through her, so powerful that she felt faint. His blue eyes darkened almost to black as they slowly raked over her, taking in the white nightgown clinging to her body in a most disconcerting way.
“How beautiful you are, Olivia,” he said, in a ragged whisper, his voice hoarse with desire. “You know how much I want you, do you not?”
She nodded silently as the desire thickened in her blood. She had no doubt of his desire for her. She had always been aware of it. She felt the same way about him. But how could it be enough to sustain a marriage when there was nothing else between them?
Slowly, he reached out, taking one dark curl in his hand. He stroked it gently.
“You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met,” he continued, in a quiet voice. “I knew it as soon as that cap fell off your head and your hair tumbled down that day in the park.” He drew a long, shuddering breath. “I was struck by you. And I have been reeling from it ever since.”
Her body swayed towards him, like a sunflower towards the sun, basking in his words. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen and the nipples were as hard as rocks, and he had not even touched her properly yet. Her throat felt constricted. She did not know if she could speak at all.
“I promise you that I shall always treat you well,” he continued. “I promise to protect you. You are my wife now. I know we exchanged vows in that church today, but this is my vow to you. A private one between only us.” He hesitated. “I am sorry that it has happened so quickly and not in the way you wanted. But I will try my very best to make it up to you, Olivia.”
Her eyes filled with tears. They were sweet, tender words. The very best that he could give her. But there was no mention of love. It was a glaring admission.
She tried not to let it bother her. If she did, it would ruin this night. And this was the only connection between them. This fierce desire was the lifeblood of their relationship. She must not ruin it by ruminating upon what was missing between them.
“May I finally make love to you?” he said, in an ardent whisper. “I have been dreaming of this night.”
Mutely, she nodded. She wanted this as much as he did. She wanted their bodies to become one. As nervous as she was about what was ahead, she was certain of that. Perhaps the only thing shewascertain about in her brand-new marriage.
His eyes filled with fierce joy. A hand trailed down, grazing her nipples through the thin fabric of her nightdress. She gasped as shooting sparks of desire tore through her body. She was suddenly conscious of the bulge straining against the fabric of his britches, looking like it was desperate for escape. His manhood.
But before she could contemplate it further, he reached for her, pulling her to him. His lips descended upon her own, tilting her back. She felt her hair cascade down as the kiss deepened, his tongue flickering into her mouth, darting like a fish. Another bolt of desire tore through her. She clung to him, opening her mouth wider, as his lips took possession of her entire senses. By the time he pulled away from her, she was faint and giddy.
Briefly, she thought of Bertie, and the dry, chaste way he had kissed her. She had always known there was no passion between them, despite his claims that she was beautiful. He had never loved her either. But at least there was passion between her and Alexander.
It must be enough. For it was all she would get from him.
She was only vaguely aware of anything around her when he suddenly swept her up into his arms, carrying her to the bed. His hands felt hot against her skin. Slowly, he lowered her down, his mouth descending upon her lips once again.
Before she realised what he was doing, he had inched her nightgown off her shoulders, pulling it down her body where it lay in a discarded heap on the bed. She was entirely naked, trembling and quivering in his arms.
