The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [106]
Trust me.
How she had battled with that question of trust.
Good God, why was she standing here shivering at the thought? She had never been one to cavil at facing anything else. In truth, the decision had already been made.
She turned and strode back to the bed. She stood there looking down at Kadar for a long moment.
Then she slipped into bed beside him to wait until he woke.
Kadar didn’t open his eyes until late afternoon.
Then he immediately closed them. “Good God, my head hurts. . . .”
“It serves you well,” Selene said.
His eyes opened again. “What are—” His gaze wandered from her face to her obviously naked body covered by the blanket. “God in heaven.”
“Go cleanse your mouth. You stink of wine.”
He gingerly sat up and then flinched as he turned his head to look down at her. “What am I doing here?”
“You didn’t come on your own, if that’s your concern. Vaden brought you. He dumped you on my bed like a limp salmon.”
He flinched again as he carefully stood up and moved toward the washbasin. “I hope you didn’t use that comparison to Vaden. I’ve found he has a perverse sense of humor.”
“He didn’t give me a chance to say anything. He seemed to be too full of glee at ridding you of ‘complications’ to bother with anything else.”
“Instead, he’s piled on a mountain more.” He splashed water in his face and then rinsed his mouth. “And I can scarcely wait until I’m myself again so that I can go break his neck.”
“I’d not go that far. I found his directness to be helpful.”
He stopped in midmotion of drying his face. “What?”
Selene drew a deep breath. Don’t hide. Honest. Open. “I believe you heard me. Now, if you can come near me without making me intoxicated from that foul odor, I’d like you to come back to bed.”
He slowly put the towel back on the washstand. “Why?”
“I wish to couple with you.” She moistened her lips. “Though I don’t know why when you saw fit to rob me of my wedding night.”
“Selene.”
“Stop arguing.” Her gaze went to his body. “I’m not blind. I can see you’re ready for me.”
“But are you ready for me?”
He meant the question more than physically. “I think—” She met his gaze and said clearly, “Oh, yes, I know I’m ready for you.”
A brilliant smile lit his face. “I suppose I should ask questions and give you an opportunity to question yourself. It would be the noble thing to do.” He was across the room in three strides and tearing the cover off her. “But I’ve been down that path and I’m not going there ever again.” He parted her thighs and moved between them. “I’ve been noble enough to last me for a lifetime.”
“I never asked you to be—”
She lost speech and breath as he sank deep and the rhythm started. Her arms closed tightly around him.
Accept. Trust. Belong.
Oh, yes, belong . . .
“You performed very well.” Her lips brushed his shoulder. “I admit I had my doubts. I’ve never seen you drunk before.”
“I was inspired.” He lifted himself on one elbow and looked down at her. “And I didn’t perform well, I performed magnificently.”
“Braggart.” She thought about it. “Perhaps the first time.”
“I was even better the third time.”
She smiled slyly. “I was too weary to notice.”
“You wound me.” He brushed the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “But, it’s true, I did perceive a lack of enthusiasm in you. I thought I’d taught you that a woman must be as skilled as a man in this—” He inhaled sharply. “Will you—please remove—your hand?”
She squeezed. “Actually, a woman doesn’t have to be so skilled. I’ve found you to be responsive to the simplest things.”
“Simple?” He went rigid as her thumbnail caressed him. “If you don’t wish to couple with me again in the next minute, I’d remove your hand.”
She laughed and released him. “Not until I’ve had my supper.” She swung her feet to the floor and stood up. “And afterward I wish a hot bath.” She carelessly draped the length of blue material around her. Layla was right, this garment had many uses. She liked the feel of the softness against her breasts. Her body felt as sleek and silky smooth as the material. “And then