Page 67

Because as soon as he entertained that lie, he would immediately reach into the hidden, dark vault in his mind and recollect her image in that blasted nightgown.

When Rhys walked back into his wife’s chamber, he was blessedly frozen to the bone again. As long as his loins were not in any condition to get excited, he wouldn’t do or say anything he’d regret.

Luckily for him, Lady Isabel was already in her bed. Her white, ruffled nightgown peaked out slightly from under the covers, and her hair was collected under a crime of a nightcap.

Lying like that, burrowed in the huge bed, she should have looked absolutely unappealing to him. But his mind retrieved the picture of her alluring physique out of its dark vault and flaunted it in front of Rhys’s eyes.

So the only thing Rhys could see as he looked at her bundled body was her soft, white skin, her leg peeking out of the deep slash of a transparent skirt.

Rhys shook his head and walked toward the bed. He doused the lights and crawled under the sheets.

Chapter 19

Isabel lay in bed, afraid to move lest she bump into her husband’s limbs. She had never slept in a bed with another human being. It was strange and slightly unnerving.

For all her thoughts and aspirations about seducing her husband, now that he lay in the same bed with her, she was absolutely mortified.

Just the idea of having his tall, broad form a few feet away from her made her heart riot in her chest, and her palms perspire. No, that would not help her in seducing him. Add to that her numbness and her fear of accidentally brushing his limbs with hers, and she was doomed.

Abandoning her plans of seduction, Isabel concentrated on evening out her breath.

What were the rules of sleeping in a bed with one’s husband? Was it rude to shift too much? Should she say something before rolling to the other side? Was she overthinking this?

Isabel let out a frustrated puff of air. She had navigated the ton with absolute ease, but she had always had the rules of polite society to fall back on.

She knew when to introduce herself, what she could or could not speak about, with whom she was to attend the dinner, and even how many dances she was allowed to dance with a gentleman.

This married life was absolutely confusing.

Isabel’s mother had prepared her for being a perfect hostess; she’d taught her to be a flawless member of polite society. But the one thing nobody had ever prepared her for was how to be a wife.

Evie had given her a bit of advice on how to act in bed with her husband, but that was for the marital duty. How was one to act when they were simply sleeping?

“You are allowed to move.” Vane’s deep voice penetrated her thoughts.

Did you just read my thoughts? Isabel turned on her side to face him. “How did you know I wasn’t sleeping?”

“For one thing, you haven’t moved ever since I climbed into bed. In fact, I do not think you even breathed. But you do not need to worry. I shall not touch you.”

“That’s not what I was worried about,” Isabel grumbled.

“What were you worried about?”

The rustle of sheets and a dip in the bed indicated that Vane had turned to face her, but Isabel did not see him save for the outline of his form.

He was huge. His broad shoulders protruded from the bed, blocking her view. Heat radiated from him, warming Isabel from head to toe. Isabel’s breath caught, and butterflies raced inside her stomach. Why did he have such an effect on her?

Isabel tried to remember what he had asked her just now.

Oh, what she was worried about.

Well, she couldn’t very well tell him the truth. Or could she? She decided to be candid.

“I was worried about disrupting your sleep if I moved… I haven’t ever slept in the same bed with anyone.”

There was a grunt. “You can move.”

He turned to his back again. Is that it? Is the conversation over?