She was angry, he realized through the haze of his desire. The sharp whip of her wrist as she pulled back the bed sheets told him so. With all the regal bearing of a princess, she climbed onto the bed and lay passively across its surface.
“Take me if you want,” she offered tonelessly. “It means nothing to me.”
Drex absorbed her verbal blow like a punch. He wanted her, had thought of nothing else all day. She wanted no part of him or this side of their marriage.
Across the room, Christina directed her unblinking stare at the ceiling, her naked body tense and unmoving.
Had he really hurt her that much last summer?
He cleared his throat. “Christina, not like this.”
She didn’t look at him. “This is all I have to offer, all I will ever give you.”
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The Lady and the Dragon
The steely pitch of her monotone voice told Drex she meant every word. If he caressed and kissed her, she would try her damnedest to merely endure his touch. If she did respond to him, he suspected she would never forgive him.
If he told her his identity now, she would hate him forever.
Damn it, what a tangle! He’d made the right decision to ransom her, given his situation, but had no idea how to reverse the damages. He would simply have to start over, court her again. Find a way to make her fall in love with him once more.
Drex strode for the door and flung it open, his scowl an unyielding challenge. “I don’t want a martyr. I want a wife.”
* * *
Two long weeks later, Christina rose from her seat during the chasm of awkward silence immediately following dinner. Pressing at her temples to lend credence to her headache, she fled from her husband’s omnipresent stare.
She paused before exiting, her gaze falling on Lord Drakethorne’s now familiar features. A mistake. The man couldn’t look anything but powerful, she concluded. Her palms turned damp beneath her gloves just looking at him.
After racing to her room in Ashmont’s town house, she shut the door and stood in the dark. She should have called for her maid, but didn’t. Instead, she pondered her new husband.
Lord Drakethorne and his magnetism would be easy to succumb to—too easy. He seemed content to maintain his distance without demand. He’d left flowers on her breakfast plate last week. The volume of Byron’s poetry two days ago had been a surprise, as well. Not because he’d given her a gift, but because he seemed to ask nothing in return. At least, not yet.
But she knew what he wanted. Worse, she feared he could make her want it, too.
Christina drifted to the window and parted the sheer curtains. Unless she controlled her emotions, Lord Drakethorne could win her over, placate her with his charm—and control her for the rest of her life. Then again, he might simply choose to use and abandon her, taking mistress after mistress after he’d tired
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Shelley Bradley
of her. Christina couldn’t bear that pain and humiliation. Being abandoned once had been enough.
But his exit on their wedding night… She had never expected the reprieve.
Would he really wait until she was ready to give more than the shell of her body to him? Such an idea confounded her, as much as his abstinence the past two weeks. He could take her. The law gave him that right. Why, then, did it matter to him that she wasn’t willing to give him more than mere sex?
A knock sounded moments later. His knock, she knew. Funny, she’d already memorized its cadence and volume. Her heart pounded as she straightened the bodice of her dress and her shaking voice bade him to enter.
He didn’t hesitate. The door came open, and he strode to the center of the room. Long moments passed. He did nothing more than stare. His intensity spoke volumes on his mood.
“Go away. I have a headache,” she said.
“I won’t stay.”
He walked to the window. The full moon cast a beam of pale light on his features. The jut of his chin, the angle of his nose and those eyes—all resembled the Black Dragon. So much it hurt. Yet she knew no matter how haunting the similarities, reality was much different. No matter how much she wanted to blame Lord Drakethorne for her pain, she could not.
Yet she refused to let him into her thoughts, where he could cause more anguish.
“Christina, I understand that you’ve been hurt. The man who hurt you surely knows his actions were wrong. I can only say that his reasons must have been good to give you up willingly.”
“You’re defending him? The knave who took your wife’s maidenhood?” she challenged, mouth open in incredulity.
Her husband closed his eyes and reached out to grasp the window sill. “I think we should forget the past. Both of us.”
Christina turned her back to him. “I offered you my body, quite freely.”
He closed the distance between them and touched her shoulders. “Not freely. Reluctantly. I want all of you.”
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The Lady and the Dragon
The gentle yet provocative timbre of his voice made her tremble. He meant what he said. Every word. God help her.
Tears stung her eyes. “I have nothing more to give.”
“You have a heart,” he whispered in her ear.
A tremor whisked down her spine, all the way to her toes. She twisted free from his grasp, then stepped away, smoothing a shaking hand down her dress.
“Christina, I will not hurt you. I give you my word.”
“Words mean very little to me, my lord.”
His footsteps ate up the ground between them. Christina wasn’t surprised to feel his hand wrap about her arm. He turned her around to face him.
“It’s Drexell,” he urged. “Can you not even say my name?”
“Such informality between us does not suit me.”
He released her. “This isn’t over. I will make you my wife in every way, by your choice, in your time. Not before.”
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Shelley Bradley
Chapter Seventeen
Another two weeks slid by. Still Drexell demanded nothing of her.
Christina pushed the surprise from her mind and wandered about the library, lamenting that she’d most likely waste this crisp winter sun indoors, alone. She missed people around her and longed for the days when dresses and matching slippers consumed her afternoons before glittering evenings of dance.
Though she could not fathom why, she missed her husband. Turning away from the bookshelves, she walked to the hearth and sat on the blue settee with a sigh. In the first few weeks of their marriage, she’d found his distance relieving, a godsend even. Recently, something had changed.
The sound of rapid footsteps outside the door brought Christina’s gaze around. Drexell paused, scanning the room.
“Good morning. Have you seen my father?” he asked.
She’d never known a man so patient. Why did he behave so?
She gave him a halting smile. “I—he left earlier.”
Remembrance burst across his face as he snapped his fingers. “I’d forgotten. He had an appointment this morning.”
After a precise pivot, her husband left. Christina exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath during his brief visit.
She stared at the vacant doorway. Lonely and empty described her mood.
Her grandmother suggested she was punishing Drexell for the Black Dragon’s deeds. Perhaps it was true.
No, this had nothing to do with Drexell. She was just restless. Confining herself to the house had never appealed.
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The Lady and the Dragon
Suppressing a sprouting smile, Christina dashed to change her dress, then strode to the stables. If Drexell planned an outing, it seemed a likely place to find him.
Inside the stable, the scents of hay and beast blended with wet earth from a recent rain. She spotted Drexell atop a huge bay, crooning to the skittish animal. The shadows enhanced the dark intensity of his eyes, the chiseled angles of his face.
She fiddled with her riding habit, unsure of her welcome. “Where are you going?”