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suddenly strode across the room, swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Dropping her
there, he immediately began tearing at his clothes.
Emma watched him with something akin to amazement. It was not quite the reaction she had expected.
She had hoped it might give him ideas, but had fully expected she would have to at least ask him before
he would relent and agree to the joining. To see him ripping so impatiently at his clothes instead made her
wonder if perhaps the joining were not much more enjoyable for the man, for truly it did seem he was
eager. He already had his tunic off and was now hopping about the room on one foot, tugging at the boot
on his other. The boot came off at last and he tossed it over his shoulder, then turned his attention to the
second boot. A moment later that went flying over his shoulder as well. He then wasted little time in
untying the stays of his hose and shoving them down.
Emma s eyes widened when his oddity was revealed. It seemed even bigger than it had been the last
time she had seen it. She was suddenly extremely grateful for the foresight that had led her to dose
herself.
Realizing that he had suddenly gone still, she raised her eyes to his face. The hunger was still there, but
now his face showed an expression resembling pain. Frowning, Emma licked her lips.  Husband?
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Amaury groaned and closed his eyes at the sight of her little tongue darting swiftly across her lips. Hell,
didn t she realize he was trying to contain himself? Did she not know the restraint needed to keep from
pouncing on her? For that had been his full intention as he had torn at his clothes. Then, of course, he had
managed to overcome his baser instincts long enough to remember that she was still new to this business
of marital bliss. And that he had sworn to himself that the next time he forced himself on her, he would
take the time to make it as pleasurable for her as he could. Or at least as painless as possible, for it was a
fact ladies did not enjoy the act.
 Husband?
Sighing, Amaury opened his eyes and forced a smile, then eased himself onto the bed beside her.
Emma gave him a slightly tense smile in return, and rolled onto her back. It was what he had ordered her
to do the night of their wedding. She fully expected that he would move over top of her again and
commence the joining. Instead, he merely raised his eyebrows slightly, then allowed his gaze to run down
over her body. When his eyes reached the apex of her legs, Emma suddenly remembered his other
instruction of that night and opened her legs.
Amaury s gaze shot immediately back to her face at the action, trying to escape the thoughts it brought
immediately to his mind. Her face seemed the safest place for him to look while he regained his
self-control& until he saw her tongue dart out again.
Groaning, he dropped his face into the pillow.
 Husband?
 I can do this, he muttered through gritted teeth into the pillow.
 Do what, husband?
 Tis not your place to ask questions, wife. Just lie there quiet.
 Aye, husband, Emma answered worriedly, her insecurities running riot. He hated her. Couldn t stand
to look at her. Couldn t bear the thought of joining with her. Even now he was trying to convince himself
he could manage the deed. Hell, she wished she were beautiful. Just for this night. It was shaming to be
found so ugly that your husband couldn t bear the idea of getting you with child.
Amaury pressed his face deeper into the pillow and held his breath, counting to ten repeatedly as he
imagined the most unpleasant things he could think of in an to attempt to control his desires.
The pock-faced old hag who made the ale.
Bathing.
His wife s tree tea. Nay. That was no good. It made him remember his wife, who at the moment was
lying naked beside him.
The painful headaches he d suffered after his head injury. Nay. That was no good either. It simply
brought to mind images of her bent over him, feeling his forehead for fever.
Talking to his wife. Damn! Could she not stay out of his mind?
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Emma stared helplessly at her husband s back, suffering an agony of uncertainty. Then her temper began
to rouse as she watched him burrow his face deeper and deeper into the pillow. Was he trying to
smother himself? Was mating with her truly a fate worse than death? Good God, this was damned
insulting!
 Husband! she snapped summarily.  I have not asked you to kill yourself, simply to close your eyes,
pretend I am more attractive to you, and do that& thing& you did the other time. We need an heir, and
it seems you failed last time to produce one. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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