Smoke, who had followed her into the kitchen, hopped up on the table and meowed loudly. To Elena, the sound was oddly reassuring.

She sat at the table, deep in thought, long after she finished eating. Now that she had made the decision to do as Drake wanted, she wished to get it over with as soon as possible. She had once heard a lady comedian doing a monologue about sex. One of the things she advised women to do when having sex was close their eyes and think of something else. Yeah, right. How on earth was she supposed to think about anything else at a time like that? Especially when it was her first time?

Elena returned to the main hall, the cat at her heels. When she curled up on one of the sofas, Smoke stretched out beside her, his paw batting her hand until she gave in and stroked his head. It was relaxing, lying there with the cat purring softly at her side.

She woke with a start when the cat hopped off the sofa and left the room.

A glance at the window showed the sun was setting. And then Drake was striding toward her, and the time for decision making was over.

Elena sat up, her gaze moving over him. He wore black jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt open at the collar, the perfect foil for his long black hair and midnight blue eyes.

“Good evening, wife.”

She swallowed hard. “Drake.”

“I trust you have made your choice?”

“Do I really have one?” she asked with some asperity.

He smiled at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “One always has a choice.”

“I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“You say that like you think it will be distasteful.”

“Maybe it will,” she replied flippantly. “I’ve never made love to a vampire.”

“Or anyone else,” he reminded her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “How do vampires make love?”

“The same as everyone else,” he said with an amused grin. “Why not wait until the foul deed is over before you judge me? You might find it enjoyable.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will never lay a hand on you again.”

“Why should I believe you? You promised you wouldn’t demand your husbandly rights, yet you are about to ravish me.”

He laughed again. “Fair Elena, I am demanding nothing of you. Only asking. Would you like it better if I begged?” And so saying, he dropped to one knee in front of her. “Please, my lady wife, I need you to do this for me.”

With a sigh, Elena rose from the sofa. Taking his hands in hers, she urged him to his feet. Her heart was pounding like a drum at a rock concert when she led the way up the stairs to her bedchamber. Never had the climb seemed longer, or her bed smaller, than it did as she stepped into the room.

Once there, she came to a halt. The next move was his.

“Elena.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “Trust me, wife. I will not hurt you.”

She nodded. She had to believe him. It was too late to turn back now.

She shivered when he tugged her T-shirt over her head. His fingers were cool against her skin, his tongue warm as he laved the side of her neck. That quickly, she wanted him, wanted to know the secrets only he could reveal, discover the mysteries and differences between a man and a woman.

She trembled as he removed her jeans, her bra and panties, but couldn’t deny the feminine thrill of satisfaction she felt when he looked at her.

“You are truly beautiful.” His words confirmed the admiration she read in his eyes.

She slid under the covers when he began to undress. Her first instinct was to look away, but that seemed foolish. She had seen his naked backside. . . . She swallowed a rush of panic. But not the front.

Her gaze moved over him from head to foot, quickly the first time, and then more slowly. He was beautiful, with eyes the blue of a midnight sky and long black hair that fell past a pair of broad shoulders. His arms and legs were well muscled, his body lean and firm, his stomach hard and flat. And he had an arousal that would have done a stallion proud.

He smiled at her, his expression one of utter male arrogance as he slid under the covers beside her and drew her close, aligning her body with his so that there was nothing between them.

He aroused her slowly, his hands playing lightly over her quivering body, his tongue delving into her mouth, dueling with hers as he tasted her sweetness. He could have compelled her to respond to him. He could have forced her into submission, but it wasn’t necessary. She came alive in his arms, eagerly returning his kisses. He had expected her to be shy, hesitant, but she was young and untouched and curious. He had thought to gentle her to his will as one might gentle a filly who had not yet learned the touch of her master’s hand. But, again, it wasn’t necessary. She was willing and eager to learn, to touch and to taste, to explore the hard planes and angles of his body.

They came together like two lost souls who had been searching for each other for years, and perhaps they had. His climax came with hers, and it was unlike anything he had ever known. His only regret was that the moment passed so quickly.

Elena lay in Drake’s arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and wondered why any woman would find making love a chore. She had heard some of her aunt’s friends complain about the sexual side of marriage, but Elena could scarcely wait to make love to Drake again. She smiled inwardly. Of course, other women didn’t have Drake in their beds. If they did, she was certain they wouldn’t be complaining. He had been a tender lover, patient, gentle, willing to give her all the time she needed to feel comfortable with him, letting her explore the length and breadth of him to her heart’s content. His body was so wonderfully different from her own. She would have been happy to stay in his arms forever.

Gradually, her heartbeat slowed and her skin cooled, but not her desire. She wanted to touch him and be touched in return, to feel his breath on her face, to taste his kisses.

“Husband?”

“Yes, wife?”

She bit down on her lower lip, then huffed a sigh. They were married. It shouldn’t be so difficult to ask for what she wanted. What if he rejected her? What if he didn’t? “Can we . . . I mean, would it be all right if we . . . ?”

“Go on,” he coaxed.

She cleared her throat. “Well, you promised never to lay a hand on me again if I didn’t like it.”

He nodded.

“Well, what if I liked it?” she asked boldly. “Can we do it again? Unless you’d rather not,” she added quickly.

Drake laughed softly as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with amusement. “My dear wife, I should be more than happy to indulge your every wish.”

Chapter 13

In the morning, Elena woke with a song in her heart, a smile on her face, and aches in places that had never ached before, but it was a wonderful kind of pain. A wave of tenderness swept through her when she saw Drake sleeping beside her. He was an amazing lover. She hated to think what she would have missed if she had refused to consummate their marriage. How dreadful it would have been, to go through life never knowing how amazing making love could be. Remembering how disappointed some of her girlfriends had been after having made love to their boyfriends, Elena could only surmise that not every man was as skilled at the art of lovemaking as her husband.

Was it because he was a vampire? She frowned. And then she laughed. If being a vampire enhanced a man’s lovemaking, every woman in the world would be clamoring for her man to join the ranks of the Undead!

Rolling onto her side, Elena studied her husband’s face. His brows were nicely shaped, his lashes thick and rather long, his cheekbones high and pronounced, his lips . . . ah, those lips. A rush of warmth engulfed her when she remembered the intimate places his mouth had been last night.

A giggle rose in her throat. Would he make love to her like that again tonight? How could she wait until then? If she touched his shoulder, would he awaken and take her in his arms?

Why had it been necessary for them to make love? Not that she was sorry, but it would have been easy enough for her to lie to his sire and claim they had consummated their marriage. Who would know otherwise?

A breath whispered past Drake’s lips and then he smiled. “Rodin would know,” he murmured.

“I thought you were asleep!” Elena stared at him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“You were thinking so hard, it was impossible not to hear you.”

Even though his eyes were still closed, she made a face at him. Was there anything he couldn’t do? He came and went like the wind, he could read her mind. And he was the most amazingly attractive and virile man she had ever met.

“Thank you, wife.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Am I to have no secrets from you at all?”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “Probably not.”

She glared at him. There had to be a way to keep him from reading her mind. She tapped her fingertips on the mattress. There had to be a way. . . . Grinning, she began to mentally recite the recipe for chocolate chip cookies. And then, still thinking about flour and sugar and vanilla, she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.

He opened his eyes with a start, then burst out laughing. “Very clever, wife.”

“Thank you,” she said smugly, and then shrieked when he rolled her onto her back and straddled her thighs.

“Do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.

“I can see what you’re thinking,” she retorted with a quick, downward glance. “But it’s daytime,” she added primly.

“What has that to do with anything?” he asked.

“Well . . . the sun is up . . . and . . . and it’s daylight. . . .” she stammered. “Shouldn’t we wait until dark?”

“Daytime, nighttime, any time you desire, my darling wife.”

It had never occurred to her that people engaged in such intimate relations in the broad light of day. Besides . . . “How can you be awake when the sun is up?”

“How can I think of sleep with you lying there beneath me?”