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with the buttons of his waistcoat, his other hand tipped up
her chin. 'Smile for me, Annis that lovely warm smile
BED OF ROSES 115
you gave me coming up the aisle. I'd never seen you looking
so happy or so beautiful,' he added.
If she hadn't discovered what manner of man he really
was, she might have been grateful to be gentled out of her
nervousness. As it was, only by an effort of will could
she stop herself striking away his hand and telling him
his touch had become repugnant to her.
'I was happy.'
Then, she added silently.
For an instant she thought he was going to kiss her, but
instead he patted her cheek, and said, 'I'll fetch us both
a robe.'
During his all too brief absence in his own dressing-
room or bathroom, her hope of his taking a shower began
to diminish. And how else could she escape?
He came back to find her biting her lips with vexation
because she could not reach a fastening somewhere between
her shoulder blades.
"That dress does need a maid. Let me help you,' he
said, as he cast on the end of the bed two robes, one white
and one navy.
Knowing that he was right, she could never extricate her-
self without his assistance, Annis let him deal with the tiny
hooks and eyes which had defeated her.
'The dress having been undone, it comes off upwards,
presumably?' he asked, a few seconds later.
'Yes, but I can manage that part of it.'
As Drogo opened the back, she clutched the dress to
her in front, because the bodice was lined and needed no
bra underneath it.
'But I should be delighted to help you,' he murmured,
and she felt his breath warm on her spine before his lips
brushed her skin. 'I should enjoy i t. . . ma femme?
116 BED OF ROSES
'I would rather undress by myself . . . please, Drogo!'
Recognising the unbridelike tone of her first answer,
she tried, with the rider, to make it sound shy and appeal-
ing.
But, as she might have known, he was not the type of
bridegroom to pander to maidenly modesty. Pushing the
dress off her shoulders, he traversed her smooth naked
back with a side-to-side sweep of light kisses which sent
a long shudder through her as she thought that, a few hours
ago, his warm lips had been softly nibbling another woman's
sleek back.
No doubt Drogo thought it had been a shudder of excite-
ment. Before she knew what he was doing, he had caught
up the folds of her skirt and was lifting them over her
head and, in so doing, enveloping her in a mass of silk
which muffled her objections.
Had the dress been an off-the-peg garment, she would
have resisted more strenuously. But the beauty of the silk
and the perfection of the workmanship made her loath
to risk any damage. She let him remove it, and then
snatched up the front of the outermost petticoat and, hold-
ing it over her breasts, swung to face him with an expres-
sion which even the most obtuse bridegroom could not
have misread.
His teasing expression became a look of astonishment.
'My dear girl, what is the matter?' he asked, his tone kind
and concerned.
'Everything is the matter,' she said, with a break in her
voice. 'I've made a terrible mistake. I I can't endure being
your wife.'
Drogo stared at her for a moment, then he took off his
waistcoat and turned to toss it on the chair where he had
already put his coat. Half turned away from her, he re-
BED OF ROSES 117
moved the links from his shirt cuffs and slipped them in
his trousers pocket. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and
pulled it free of the waistband of the pale grey trousers,
their cavalry cut emphasising the length of his legs from
his lean hips and flat, hard stomach down to the slight swell
of his calf muscles.
'It's a little late to arrive at that conclusion, Annis,' he
said calmly, as he shrugged the shirt off his broad brown
shoulders. 'Our marriage is a fait accompli, and has been
for several hours. Perhaps it's only just hit you that our
lives are now bound together, and a spasm of panic isn't
unnatural. I felt something of the sort myself, when I put
the ring on your finger. But it didn't last more than a few
seconds, and your nerves will calm down if you let them.
There's nothing to be afraid of, I promise you.'
As he said this, he moved towards her, his hands out-
stretched as if to take her by the shoulders. But when she
retreated, shrinking, he didn't follow but sat on the end
of the bed to remove his socks and his shoes. Then, bare-
foot, he crossed to his dressing-room to reappear almost
at once with his feet in black leather mules.
'I'm not afraid. You don't understand . . . ' she began.
'If you aren't, you must be quite unusual. I should think
most girls are, the first time. Now why not get rid of all
those underpinnings and put something comfortable on,
and then we'll go back to the sitting-room and finish the
champagne.'
His tone of voice could not have been more reassuring.
Indeed she had never heard him speak as gently before.
But that kissing her had aroused him, and that his blood
was still hot, became obvious when he took off his trousers
and, clad only in light blue briefs of the briefest kind,
reached for the white terry robe.
118 BED OF ROSES
Watching him wrap it around himself and tie the sash to
hold it in place, she realised that his relaxed, easy manner
was like the places on a volcano where the crust of ground
was so thin that one false step could release the fierce heat
smouldering beneath it.
Striving to keep her voice steady, she said, 'You told me
you were going to spend last night here, in the apartment,
attending to business matters. But you didn't, did you? You
went out?'
'Yes, I did. How did you know? Did you ring me up?
Rosie didn't mention it to me. Why didn't you try again
this morning? We could have talked, even if we weren't,
by tradition, supposed to set eyes on each other.'
'I didn't find out by ringing you. I overheard some
people talking at the reception. They . . . they were expres-
sing amazement that even a man of your sort should spend
the night before his wedding in the arms of his . . . his
paramour.'
She had never seen Drogo enraged before, and it was
alarming to watch the muscles knotting at his jaw, and his
black brows drawn down over eyes which seemed all at
once to have darkened and to be the eyes of a stranger
who was glaring at her with such ferocity that it took
all her courage to stand her ground.
'And how did these people come by this information?
Were they under the bed?'
The questions were softly put, with his lips curling back
from his teeth in a sneer which increased her fear of him.
'One of them saw you leaving her flat in the small hours
and, not unnaturally, concluded that you'd been in bed
with her.'
'And you, without hesitation, believed that it must be
so?'
BED OF ROSES 119
'What would you expect me to think? That the woman
was making it up? That it couldn't possibly be true, be-
cause you're not the sort of man who would have a mist-
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