Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

you, Partridge,’ she had said firmly, turning to the waiting butler. ‘You may serve now.’

      But coping with the servants was one thing—that merely needed acting and a show of self-confidence until she acquired the real thing. Of all her new acquisitions, there was one that could not be dealt with in such a way. Her new husband.

      Tallie swallowed, pulling the sheets up to her chin before she realised what she was doing and turned them down again. He has kissed you countless times, she chided herself. You have been in bed with him, for goodness’ sake. He has seen you naked. You have seen him, if it comes to that. Why so shy now?

      If Nick had not been so restrained and proper for the four interminable weeks before their wedding, she might not have felt so nervous. But he had acted with the most scrupulous propriety, which unnerved her to the point where she almost convinced herself he was regretting the entire thing and was not in love with her after all. Then she would catch his gaze, see the passion burning in his eyes, hear the tenderness in his voice and she no longer doubted him.

      A board creaked outside the door to her dressing-room. It opened onto a tiny lobby and then into his suite. Tallie swallowed, folded her hands over the crumpled wreck of the sheet edge and attempted to look calm. There was a scratch on the panels and the door opened to reveal her husband clad in a splendid dressing-gown of heavy crimson silk, his feet disconcertingly bare.

      ‘You look very small in that big bed,’ he observed, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. ‘Is it comfortable?’

      Tallie’s voice vanished into a squeak. She coughed and tried again. ‘Very, thank you.’ Why did he not come in?

      ‘I wondered if perhaps you were very tired and would prefer it if I stayed in my room tonight.’

      For a moment a ripple of relief ran through her. She would not have to face the horrible possibility that she might not please him tonight. Tomorrow she would be rested, not so tense. A good night’s sleep would surely banish this quivering, feverish feeling that had been spreading through her limbs ever since she had placed her hand in his at the altar.

      She opened her mouth to agree and heard herself say, ‘Oh, no, Nick, no. I am not so very tired.’ Before she could correct herself he was at the bedside, flipping back the covers to reveal her modestly clad in the long nightgown of fine cambric that she had nervously chosen to wear. With one hasty, appalled glance she had rejected the dozen or so outrageous pieces of nonsense that Lady Parry had encouraged her to buy and which her new maid had spread out for her choice.

      ‘Very restrained,’ Nick observed. ‘How does it come off?’

      ‘Er … over my head.’

      ‘And are you very fond of this garment?’ His long fingers were toying with the chaste satin ribbon which gathered the neckline.

      ‘No. Why?’

      In answer Nick simply took the neck edges in both hands and ripped the nightgown firmly from top to toe, leaving Tallie naked. Before her hands could grasp the edges again he bent down, scooped her up and strode back towards the door. ‘I have been having the most improper thoughts about doing this since the first moment I saw you in Harland’s studio.’

      ‘You have?’ Tallie gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck as they swept through both dressing-rooms and into the master bedroom.

      ‘Hmm.’ Nick’s voice was a throaty growl of anticipation that sent an answering echo through her. ‘And your hair …’ He set her on her feet, tugged at the ribbon that was tying her hair back and swept the freed mass out over her shoulders with both hands. ‘And that scent of jasmine has been haunting me.’ He buried his face in her hair and Tallie found herself pressed against the warm sensual silk. It slid across her naked skin. She shivered and instantly Nick cupped her face in his hands and looked intently down at her.

      ‘Are you cold? No? Then are you frightened?’

      ‘Um, a little bit,’ Tallie admitted. Nick seemed so big, so dominant, so possessive.

      ‘Did Aunt Kate say anything to you?’

      ‘Only that it would be all right and you were much too experienced to make a mull of it.’

      ‘Oh, did she?’ Nick said indignantly. ‘And did you find that reassuring?’

      ‘Not very.’

      ‘Then let me assure you, Tallie, that I am not experienced in bedding virgins and I intend this to be the first and last time I do so. So we are going to have to muddle through this together and try not to make a mull of it jointly.’ She suppressed a little snort of amusement and he smiled. ‘That is better. Now, then, where were we?’

      Fortunately that appeared to be a rhetorical question, for Tallie very much doubted that she could come up with a coherent answer. She burrowed closer against him as though to cover her nakedness with his robe and found that her fingers—quite of their own volition—were untying the knot of the sash. The edges fell apart and she was against Nick’s body.

      Tallie froze, absorbing sensations, recalling how it had felt when she had woken in his bed and was held in his arms. This was different. For a moment she was puzzled, then realised that, standing, she was pressed against Nick in a slightly different way. She could rest her head on his shoulder, which meant she could let her lips graze against the side of his neck where the pulse beat so hard. The strangely exciting friction of his chest hair against her softness was the same; she wriggled and caught her breath at the way his breath caught in turn.

      And like this, tight against him, there was no mistaking the extent to which she had aroused him.

      ‘Tallie,’ Nick murmured against her hair.

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘Let me kiss you.’ She tipped back her head and his hands came up to her shoulders to push off the wreck of her nightgown. The fine cambric whispered to the floor as he bent to her lips and Tallie responded, opening to him, yielding to the demands of tongue and lips until suddenly this was no longer enough and the aching, throbbing feeling inside built into a clamorous demand that she could no longer pretend she did not understand.

      Nick seemed to sense the change in her. He bent, caught her up in his arms, laid her on the bed. With one fluid movement he had shrugged out of his robe and was on the bed at her side.

      Tallie swallowed, struggled to calm her breathing, still the turmoil that racked her. Then the world seemed to stop as she met Nick’s eyes. She had thought she had seen love in them before. She had glimpsed admiration, desire, love. But what she saw now took her breath away. There were all those things in the deep grey gaze, but mixed with them was awe, tenderness, strength and an aching vulnerability.

      ‘I love you,’ he whispered.

      ‘I love you too,’ she answered and saw the vulnerability vanish, showing her the banked fires of controlled desire behind the gentleness. And suddenly she did not want him to treat her like a fragile butterfly cupped in his hands, for the desire was welling up in her too, threatening to overwhelm her. ‘Love me, Nick. I will not break.’

      Even then he was careful, controlled. She learned to surrender to him, to his clever hands, to his mouth, to the heat and strength of his body until her own was arching in supplication beneath his. When he entered her Tallie was already so tense with the passion he had been building for her that the momentary pain passed in a flash to be replaced with an explosion of sensation.

      Tallie cried out, her hands locked about Nick’s neck, her head thrown back on the tumbled pillows, her entire body and mind swept by a crashing wave of sensation.

      Slowly, slowly she came to herself, marvelling at the weight of him capturing her so powerfully, so tenderly. Then she realised that he still possessed her, filled her, completed her and her newly awakened body quivered around him.

      ‘Oh, my love.’ Nick’s eyes were on hers as she smiled tremulously up at him. ‘My beautiful, beautiful Talitha.’ And he began