Chapter Thirty
At the moment of climax, Niki had felt as if his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He was no longer the ruler of his country but a man whose body was awash with deep satisfaction and delight.
He had never felt such pleasure, and he didn’t know if this was what he would have felt with another woman.
He would never know now, but he thought it impossible.
He rejected the idea. Roberta was special, and he loved her.
Already, he could not imagine experiencing the sexual act with anyone but her.
She was quiet at his side, her cheek warm against his chest, his arm wrapped around her soft curves.
She was asleep, and he was glad he would not have to answer any questions he didn’t want to answer.
He mused on what she had said about his planned wedding night making them feel the pressure to be perfect, and he wondered if she was right.
It turned out he had spent very little time or effort or money tonight, and this had turned out to be wonderful.
Who would have thought that in a little inn far from anywhere, in a bed that was barely big enough for the two of them, he would experience something he would remember for the rest of his life?
Because Niki had never experienced physical intimacy before, he had always been alone at night.
Women had wanted to come to him, Karl had even offered to share, but he had never allowed it.
He was shy and lacking the sort of confidence that Karl had to a huge degree.
Niki wanted the moment to mean something.
He wanted someone in his bed who cared about more than his position and his birthright, or the opportunity to boast about being his first.
He felt a great deal of pride in knowing a woman like Roberta wanted to be with him.
He had achieved his dream of a happy marriage—or at least made a start.
Now he must continue that journey with her.
A journey where they told each other how they felt and what they wanted from their lives.
They would support each other through good and bad times.
Just as Niki understood how Roberta felt she sometimes couldn’t be herself, she instinctively saw when he was feeling overwhelmed and needed to escape.
That day at Grantham, when he took tea with her family, she had seen he was far, far beyond his emotional boundaries, and she had made sure he felt safe.
They had walked down by the pond, and she had shared confidences with him, and they had kissed.
Then why couldn’t he tell her the truth about his virginity?
Didn’t he trust her with his secret when she already knew so much about him?
He should be over the moon. He was over the moon.
And yet, as usual with Niki, there were doubts.
It was partially the result of his lonely, miserable childhood.
It was also because he loved Roberta, and that made him vulnerable.
If, for some reason—his breathing began to quicken and sweat beaded his brow—she was to turn away from him, find someone else as his mother did, what then?
What if she never loved him as he loved her?
“I don’t know the answer to that,” he whispered. “How can I answer that?”
“Niki?” Roberta lifted her head to peer down at him. “You were talking in your sleep.”
“Was I?” His laugh sounded shaky.
“Yes. Do you always talk in your sleep?” She sounded concerned.
“I don’t know. I suppose we shall find out.”
“I suppose we shall.”
“Go to sleep,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Hmm”—she snuggled in closer—“that sounds nice.”
He held her against him, and although he tried to sleep, his mind would not be still.
No one could read the future, but he was not his father, and Roberta was certainly nothing like his mother.
Their happiness was not preordained, but that did not mean they would be unhappy either.
Life ahead may be full of rocks and ravines, but they would find a way around them if they had strength and determination.
If they were open and honest with each other.
“I am a novice too,” he said aloud.
Again, Roberta lifted her head and looked at him. “A novice?”
“A virgin,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Tonight…our night…It was my first time.”
For a heart-wrenching moment she was silent and then…“I am so glad!” she blurted out. “I felt as if I was the only one who didn’t know what to do.”
He laughed; he couldn’t help it. So much for his dreaded secret.
She lay her head down again. “Though you did awfully well,” she murmured sleepily.
Eventually, he slept too, but he was conscious of continually reminding himself to be still, in case his tossing and turning disturbed his wife.
Wife.
The idea of ruling Holtswig no longer felt quite as daunting now that he knew she would be by his side.
That someone he had thought a loyal follower was trying to kill him no longer frightened him quite as much, not with her there.
He felt invincible, and perhaps that was a foolish admission, but he did.
A tap on the door in the dawn light woke him, and he regretted having to rise and leave her after he had said he would be there when she awoke. Would she see it as a broken promise? He hoped not. She knew that his duties were important, and he thought she would understand. At least, he hoped so.
Gently, Niki closed the door and followed his servant down the stairs.
The rest of the journey was without incident.
Niki rode alongside the coach this time, saying he needed to stretch his legs, and Freddie, Antonia, and Ernest shared with Roberta.
Once or twice, he noticed her face at the window, watching him, but most of the time she was engaged in conversation with the others.
Finally, they reached their destination near Dover. The house was large and grand and adequately staffed. They were all very weary, and once they had eaten their supper, they retired.
This time, Niki had to ask one of the servants where his wife was sleeping—no one had thought to tell him which room she was in.
Eventually, he tracked her down to the Queen Anne suite, so called because an English queen had once slept here.
As he slipped inside the door, he could see she was awake, propped up with pillows, and there was a lamp beside her bed while a frighteningly large book rested upon her lap.
He began to undress, eager to get in beside her, while she watched him with wide eyes. It occurred to him that she had not seen him naked—the night in the inn had been very dark—and he slowed down and paid particular attention to untying his neckcloth.
“What are you reading?” He nodded toward the book with a grimace.
She laughed at his expression. “Antonia gave it to me. It is a history of Holtswig. She thought I might find it useful.”
“You know you can ask me anything you want to know. The history of my country was drummed into me from boyhood. I can probably answer any of your questions.”
She had set the book aside now and was watching him.
He hesitated when it came to his shirt, even more self-conscious, and then told himself not to be ridiculous.
Karl strutted around shirtless all the time.
Quickly, he removed it, and her eyes slid over his chest, bright with curiosity. “You are very hairy,” she said.
He laughed. She always seemed to make him laugh at those moments when he needed to. He reached for the buttons on his riding breeches. “We are a hairy family.”
“Not Matilda, I hope.”
That made him laugh again and eased his nerves as he pushed down his garment and then his drawers. Her eyes widened even more at the sight of him. The other night, in the dark, they had begun to know each other by touch, but this was different.
“I would like to see you too,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Oh, would you? Is that why you are…?” She gestured at his cock.
“It is a bit of a giveaway, isn’t it?”
Her face flushed, but she quickly threw back the covers and reached for the hem of her nightgown.
It was pale pink, almost the color of her skin, with a ridiculous amount of lace and ribbons attached.
As she made herself as naked as he, he thought she did not need any adornments; she was beautiful enough without them.
There was nothing flirtatious about her actions, but once she was bare, she didn’t seem to know what to do.
She twisted her feet together in a knot and crossed her arms over her breasts.
Her hair was loose and hung over one shoulder, and he longed to rake his hands through it and lift the dark mass to his face. He started toward the bed.
“I have wanted you all day,” he blurted out. He climbed onto the mattress, and on his hands and knees crawled toward her. “That was the reason I rode outside the coach. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to help myself if I were alone with you. Just think of the scandal.”
She looked surprised and then amused. “The Ashtons are no strangers to scandal, Niki. I think I would have liked you alone in the coach with me.”
When he reached out to trail his fingers across the bare skin of her belly, they trembled a little. “We could have pulled the blinds, I suppose,” he said, the idea titillating.
“Yes. Although your bodyguards might have wondered.”
She sounded breathless, and his fingers trailed lower, into the dark curls between her thighs.
Her feet unknotted, her arms dropped apart, and her thighs opened as he continued to stroke and touch, his exploration becoming more intimate.
He had dreamed of this. He just hadn’t known it was Roberta he was dreaming of.
Now her hands were on him too, and she was supporting herself by gripping his shoulders as he bent forward and used his mouth on her.
Niki might have been a virgin, but he was not ignorant of the many ways a man could pleasure a woman.
He had listened to Karl often enough, and there were many books on the subject—he was a diligent scholar.
“Is that to your liking?” he asked huskily.
“I think…Just a little to the…Oh!”
She began gasping and writhing, and then she cried out, and he felt the warmth of her release against his tongue. He lifted his head and watched her in wonder. So this was what a woman’s pleasure looked like. Her lovely face flushed, her eyelids fluttering, her wide mouth curled into a half smile.
“Niki?” she breathed.
He did not hesitate, laying his body upon her warm, welcoming one and pressing his aching cock deep inside her.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, enfolding him, and murmured encouragement.
Did she call him “darling”? He thought for a moment she did, but he was too caught up in the need to satisfy his lust to be certain.
And yet it wasn’t just lust, he thought feverishly.
This was more than a joining of two bodies.
It was a joining of two minds and hearts.
Two individuals becoming one. He and Roberta joined together for eternity.
Niki had never thought of himself as a romantic.
He had the example of his parents to warn him off flights of fancy.
But perhaps it was the very fact that he had been a lonely boy, dreaming of something other than a father and mother who fought like cats and dogs, and a brother who cared nothing for the women he seduced and abandoned.
Perhaps that lonely boy had always wanted someone to love who loved him.
The words were on his lips. I love you. But he couldn’t say them. It was too risky; it would leave him too vulnerable. What if she did not say it back? What if she gave him a kindly smile and patted his cheek sympathetically? No, he couldn’t take the chance.
Not yet.
But some day.