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They hadn’t even gotten to bed yet, but his entire body tensed in anticipation. Excitement was palpable in the air. William had stirred the coals, ensuring the hearth wouldn’t go out in the middle of the night, when all he wanted to do was douse the fire. He wanted this room to be cold, so he had an excuse to be closer to Victoria, to envelop her in his arms, to warm her with his kisses.

But he had a feeling she wouldn’t be happy about that. And even though he’d tricked her into marrying him, he’d bargained with her to make her live with him, to bestow her kisses upon him, one thing he would never do was trick her into giving her body to him.

She would have to do so on her own.

And a part of him thought—hoped—that that day wasn’t far away. The way she stared at his naked form earlier, the way she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, spoke volumes. Her mouth had slackened, her eyes had gone dark, and her breathing had been accelerated.

She was aroused. And since she had allowed him goodnight kisses rather easily, he assumed that she was warming up to the idea of more intimacy between them.

She hadn’t been angry at him throughout the day either. She didn’t try to renegotiate the terms or go back on her word. She just walked around the house, laying out little gifts she had received from the shelter. She even talked about bringing a maid into the house. Apparently, the carriage driver, Matthew, had taken a liking to one of the maidens at the shelter, and Victoria wanted to play matchmaker by making sure they spent more time together outside the shelter, even if it meant bringing this woman into their home.

William didn’t mind. He trusted Victoria’s judgment, and most of all, he enjoyed this newfound excitement of hers regarding rearranging their house and making it feel like home.

Her home. Their home.

And if this woman, Gertrude, would help her accomplish that, who was he to say no?

He wanted Victoria to feel at home. He wanted her to bring new bedsheets, to walk around the house hanging tapestries and spreading out quilts.

Something had changed within her, and he wondered if it had anything to do with their naked confrontation, or if perhaps there was something more. Some deeper change within her that he had overlooked. Either way, he hoped this change was permanent and positive.

In the meantime, he would work to convince her of their bond in his own way. They wanted each other. Despite everything uncertain between them, of this one thing he was quite sure. And they had ten more weeks to explore that physical attraction. Starting tonight.

Victoria entered the bedchamber draped in an oversized, puffy dressing gown, her voluminous white nightgown peeking out from underneath. The hem of the robe whispered across the floor as she glided farther into the room. The sleeves of her nightgown billowed around her hands, hiding them up to the fingertips.

That ensemble on anyone else would extinguish all allure. But not Victoria.

She was ethereal in her beauty. She had a lovely face; he would never deny that. Her large, doe eyes framed perfectly by thick, dark lashes shone with vulnerability, her skin was silky, and her soft, plump, rosy lips begged to be kissed. Her long jet-black hair cascaded freely down her back in relaxed waves, a few unruly strands curling softly at her temples.

But when William looked at her, her sensuous features were not what he saw.

He saw the strength it took her as a child to leave her home country and the only family she knew, and still retain that childish innocence. He saw the delicate grace with which she treated everyone, no matter their station in life. He saw the love she had for her family, the fierceness with which she was ready to protect them. He saw a loyal friend, a kind and generous soul.

And yes, he saw a woman who was mad at him for all his lies, and yet who had seen something within him that called straight to her soul.

He saw his love. His heart. His mate.

And every time William looked at her, something primal stirred inside him.

Then she covered her stomach with her arms, glancing at the bed in uncertainty, vulnerability shining in her dark eyes, and William felt like a brute for forcing her to share a bed with him.

Determined to make the transition as comfortable as possible for her, he turned away. “You can pick a side of the bed you want to sleep on and climb under the covers. I shall join you after dousing the candles.”

There was a brief pause before Victoria inhaled a deep breath. “Very well.”

The sound of rustling fabric alerted him that she’d shed her dressing gown, then the mattress dipped with a slight creak, and then more rustling, no doubt Victoria covering herself up with the sheets. She cleared her throat. “All done.”

William slowly doused the candles, then lifted his shirt over his head, folded it, and put it away. He briefly covered the band of his breeches with his palm, his mind whirling.

He always slept naked. But that would make Victoria even more uncomfortable. It was one thing to embarrass her by getting out of the tub in the heat of the argument. It was another thing spending an entire night next to her stark naked.

So, he removed his hand and climbed beside Victoria.

She looked at him as he did so, curiosity evident on her face.

“Is anything amiss?” he asked, turning his head toward her.

She lay beside him, covered up to her jaw with a sheet. “You don’t wear a nightshirt to bed?”