The smile began hesitantly but blossomed into a dazzling display of delight. "That's true, isn't it? I'm so used to hiding from Geordie, I suppose it'll take me a while to relax now that I don't have to anymore. It's done. I'm free."

"Not quite free, my dear."

"No, I didn't mean—"

"I know." He chucked her under the chin. "But you are in fact mine now, and I am discovering, very quickly, what a possessive bore I can be."

How utterly absurd was that statement, but Roslynn was certain he was joshing her, as was his habit. If and when he ever treated a subject seriously, she would probably perish from the shock.

On a new thought, she asked, "Anthony, why did you insist on returning to London tonight?"

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Brides are nervous enough on their wedding night. I thought you might be more at ease in a bed you're already familiar with."

Blushing, she got out in a whisper, "I asked for that, I suppose."

"You did."

"But you mentioned noise?"

"Did I? Think nothing of it. Like as not, we'll be as quiet as church mice."

He was teasing her again. She wasn't sure she liked it tonight. She wasn't sure she would ever get used

to it, his allusions to lovemaking. But tonight…

She yawned, Anthony grinned, and the coach stopped.

"At last," he said and leaped down without awaiting the coach step. 'Come, my dear, and I will endeavor to carry you over the threshold."

She took his hand and was lifted to the ground. "It isn't necessary—"

"Allow me to play my part," he cut in, at the same moment sweeping her off her feet. "After all, they must have invented this quaint custom for a reason. Perhaps so the bride can't possibly escape?"

"What nonsense." She chuckled, wrapping an arm about his neck. "More likely it was a few brides fainting on the threshold so they had to be carried inside that started it."

"Only a few?" he teased. "I assure you that ignorance of the marriage bed is more widespread than that.

Mothers just can't bring themselves to discuss such things these days, you know. A shame, because it makes it devilish hard on the poor grooms, easing fears and nervousness when they'd rather get right to the deflowering."

"Anthony!" she cried, though it was difficult not to smile at his wicked grin. "Mustyou say such things?"

But she added, to have the last word, "Besides, some brides don't have mothers to enlighten them."

"Ah, now we're getting personal." He reached the door and pounded on it before giving her a tender look. "But you weren't frightened, were you, sweetheart? ''

"You didn't exactly give me time to be frightened," she admitted, warming with another blush.

"And now that you know what it's all about?"

"I believe I feel a faint coming on."

He burst into laughter, but coughed it down as the door opened and a stoic-faced Dobson stared out at them. Roslynn was a trifle disappointed that the fellow could look so blase, as if he were quite accustomed to finding his employer at the door with a woman in his arms. But she was mollified a moment later as they passed him and she caught Dobson's unguarded expression. That was more like it, astonishment in the extreme. She hid her smile against Anthony's shoulder.

But watching the butler, she missed seeing James Malory just stepping into the hall, a drink in hand. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. The voice that drew Roslynn's attention to him was bland as well.

"I don't suppose I should be witnessing this."

"I was hoping you wouldn't," Anthony retorted without breaking his stride toward the stairs. "But since you have, you may as well know I married the girl."

"The devil you say!"

"He realiy did." Roslynn chuckled, delighted with this reaction even more than with Dobson's. "You don't think I'd allow just anyone to carry me over the threshold, do you?"

Anthony stopped short, rather amazed himself that he had managed to discompose this particular brother. "Good God, James, I've waited a lifetime to see you at a loss for words. But you'll understand if I don't wait around for you to recover, won't you?" And he didn't, continuing on his way.

At the top of the stairs, Roslynn whispered, laughter in her voice. "That was naughty of us, don't you think?"

"Not a-tall, dear girl," he promptly disagreed. "If I'm to have you to myself for a while, rendering my brother speechless was not only necessary but priceless. We will be bombarded with the family's good wishes and endless questions soon enough." Inside his room, he leaned back against the door with a sigh.

"Alone at last."

Before Roslynn could say anything, he let her legs drop, turning her toward him at the same time. She ended up practically lying on him, a position they both savored for several long moments while he teased her lips with soft nibbles.

The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, bringing her eyes slowly open. His own were grown dark and heavy-lidded with passion. And his voice was a caress too, his breath warm against her lips.

"Did you ever stop to think that this is the one night of your life when everyone knows you intend to make love? Ah, sweetheart, I love it when you blush for me."

"It's something I've been doing only recently— since I met you."

For some reason, her husky reply savaged Anthony's senses. He set her away from him, his hands trembling, a soft groan in his throat.

"I was a bloody fool to wait this long. I'll give you five minutes to do whatever you have to, but for God's sake, take pity on me, Roslynn, and be in bed when I return."

"Wearing something sheer and sexy?"

"Good God, no!" he exclaimed. "I don't think I could bear it now."

With that he disappeared into his dressing room, leaving Roslynn with a silly smile on her lips and a warmth of anticipation churning in her belly. Had she done that to him, made him lose control like that?

Extraordinary. But she wasn't too composed herself. Knowing what was going to happen was a lot different from not knowing. It made it easier. There was an eagerness. But she was still too inexperienced not to be a trifle nervous too.

Her fingers were rather clumsy in stripping off her clothes, though she made quick work of it. Her heart was pumping at an abnormal rate. Her ears were attuned to the door as she waited to hear it open.

Climbing into the bed, she was undecided whether to pull the sheet over her completely or to leave it only partially draped. Modesty won out, for now. She wondered if frequency would help, if she might eventually manage a certain detachment. With Anthony, she doubted it. This was more likely to become habit-forming.

He was wearing a long robe of crimson velvet when he finally returned. With acute embarrassment, Roslynn realized that she hadn't even thought to put on a nightgown. Not that it would have stayed on for long, but wasn't it unseemly for a wife to wait na**d in bed for her husband? Perhaps not—at least not tonight. And Anthony's appreciative smile as he approached the bed said he certainly approved.

"May I?" He sat down next to her and began removing the pins from her hair.

She touched a red-gold lock that fell onto her shoulder. "I forgot."

"I'm glad."

He was. He loved her hair, loved touching it and running his fingers through it. Setting the pins aside, he massaged her scalp until her eyes closed and a dreamy smile appeared on her lips.

"That's nice," she breathed softly.

"Is it? And what about this?"

His lips pressed to her temple, moving down, stopping at her mouth for a long, deep kiss before continuing down her neck in a path that led to her breasts. Ripples of warmth shot along her nerves, making her toes curl.

"That'stoonice," she murmured.

Anthony's chuckle was rich with pleasure. "Ah, sweetheart, was it only last night? It seems an eternity has passed between now and then."

She reached out to cup her palm to his cheek and ended by running a finger over his lips. "Only an eternity?''

He said her name impassionedly before he caught her wrist and kissed her palm, his dark eyes never leaving hers. An electricity passed between them, hot and tingling. And his intense stare continued to hold her transfixed as he shrugged out of his robe, yanked the sheet down, and covered her body with his. He commenced then to kiss her so long and passionately that she was in a state of mindless need when he finally entered her, so much so that her cl**ax was immediate and earth-shattering, her cry of fulfillment sending Anthony over the edge as well.

In a cocoon of contentment, Roslynn held his sweat-moistened body, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. She was in no hurry to have him move, and so her hold was rather tight. Not that it could have kept him there, but he was in no hurry to move either. His head rested on her shoulder, his breath fanning her neck, stirring the hair there, tickling her. Gooseflesh rushed down her arms and she gave a little shiver, enough for him to notice.

"I have managed to act the typical groom," he said with a sigh. "Impatient, speedy, and now contrite."

He lifted his weight onto his elbows, which gave her a little thrill as his groin pressed more tightly to hers.

"I give you leave to castigate me, my dear."

"For what?"

"Well, if you don't know—"

"For what, Anthony?"

"For my lack of control, of course. A man of my age and experience has no excuse, so I must put the blame on you. You quite make me lose my head."

"Is that bad?"

"I'll let you be the judge in a little while, when I make love to you at a more leisurely pace."

Her laugh was deep in her throat. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were fishing for compliments. You must know your performance wasn't lacking. Quite the contrary. You were wonderful."

He gave her his melting smile, which sent a weakness racing through her limbs. She gasped, her lips parting, tempting him to bend down and brush them lightly with a kiss.

But then he got up, surprising her by tossing the sheet up over her and retrieving his robe where he'd carelessly dropped it on the floor. He sat down again on the edge of the bed, but at a distance, which should have given her warning.

With a mock sigh, he said, "And now for the noise."

Hazel eyes blinked. "The noise?"

"The unleashing of your Scot's temper."

Roslynn grinned at him, thinking he was once again teasing her. "I'm going to lose it, am I?"

"More than likely, since I'm honor-bound to tell you that I lied to you today."

Her amusement fled. "About what?"

"Can't you guess, my dear? I have no intention of keeping a mistress on the side now that I've married. It utterly defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"But you agreed!"

His smile was one of sheer male satisfaction. "I can safely say I would have agreed to anything today to make you legally mine, even to putting it in writing, which fortunately you didn't think to request."

Roslynn stared at him incredulously, hot anger banishing the languor of her limbs. She felt tricked, cheated. She was furious.

"You married me falsely!"

"I married you in good faith."

"I offered you an ideal situation, mon!"

"One I didn't ask for or want. And, my dear, if you'll just think about it, you'll see how utterly absurd your request was. You didn't ask me to marry you, I asked you, and I'll have you know I've never done that before. Nor is it something I would have done lightly. I've had mistresses enough to last me a lifetime.

What I want now is a wife."

It was ludicrous how calm he was next to her fury, shaming her into lowering her voice. "You say so now, but what of next month, next year? Your eyes will be a-wandering again soon enough."

Anthony grinned at her, knowing that would probably infuriate her all the more. "My eyes have been a-wandering, as you put it, for the last nineteen years. Give them a rest, Roslynn. They settled on you and don't want to move on."

Her own eyes narrowed to a seething glare, just as he had anticipated. "So you think it's a matter to be joking about, do you? Well, let me tell you—"

She didn't get a chance to. He reached over and caught her around the waist, dragging her across the bed and up against his chest. The sheet was lost in the process, but Roslynn was too angry to notice.

Anthony wasn't. And the new stirring below his belt demanded he end this bickering soon and get back to the pleasures of the wedding night. The silly girl. All this fuss because he wanted no one but her. She ought to be happy about it instead of raising hell. But he had expected this, and had an answer for her.

"What say we compromise, sweetheart? D'you still insist I keep a mistress?"

"Hell's teeth! Now isna that what I've been saying?" she retorted.

"Very well." His eyes caressed her face, stopped on her lips, and his voice deepened. "Are you prepared to fill the role?"

"Me?"

His grin was back, maddeningly. "Who else? You happen to be the only woman I'm interested in at the moment."

"That's no' what I meant, and you know it!"

"Perhaps, but it's the best I can do."

Roslynn didn't believe this for a moment. "You must have a woman you've been seeing."

"Assuredly. Several, in fact. But none could actually be called my mistress, sweetheart. And if you must know, I haven't seen any of them since I met you. But that's beside the point, isn't it? The point is, I have no desire to take any of them to my bed again, or anyone else for that matter. You are quite stuck with me."