Read Online Under The Mistletoe by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online Page A

muscled shoulders. He was solid everywhere, she noticed as if for the first time. He seemed terribly male.
    She had never really touched him before, she realized. Not with her hands—she had kept them flat on the bed during all their encounters last year. And not really with her body—she had felt his weight and his penetration, that was all.
    She felt his tongue prodding against the seam of her lips and jerked back her head—and then wished she had not done so. He stared into her eyes, his hold still firm on her waist, his expression unreadable.
    â€œIs this just duty to you, then, Elizabeth?” he asked her. “Is this what the whole of today has been about for you?”
    What did he expect her to say? What did he want her to say? Last year had been easy in a way. He had spoken scarcely a word to her in her bedchamber—or out of it, for that matter.
    â€œI have tried to do my duty,” she said. “Have I not pleased you? I am sorry about . . . about just now. I was not . . . expecting it. I am sorry.”
    He took a half step back from her, though he still kept his hands where they were.
    â€œIf this is duty and nothing else, Elizabeth,” he said, “say so now and send me on my way.”
    It was not just duty. She would not have dreamed of saying no to him anyway, of course, but it was not just duty. She had wanted him to come. She wanted him in her bed again even though she knew now from experience that the encounter would not measure up to her dreams. It did not matter. She wanted him inside her again. She wanted to feel like his wife.
    She had taken too long in answering. He dropped his hands abruptly, turned, and strode toward the door.
    â€œMr. Chambers,” she said sharply.
    â€œFor God’s sake, Elizabeth.” He stopped and turned back to her, anger in his face. “Call me Edwin or nothing at all.”
    â€œI am sorry.” She tried not to show her distress. He was angry with her. He had spoken sharply to her. He had said for God’s sake in her hearing.
    â€œDon’t be.” He lifted one hand and ran the fingers through his hair. “There is no need to be eternally sorry. You owe me nothing. You married me in obedience to your parents’ will, you lay with me in theweeks following our marriage, and you presented me with a son in due course. Your life is essentially your own now. You are not my slave. I have never believed in slavery, especially the marital kind.”
    â€œI owe you obedience,” she said.
    â€œYou owe me nothing .” For a moment his eyes blazed. Then he shook his head slightly, and his anger faded. “I would far rather hear you consign me to the devil than tell me you owe me obedience. But no matter. It is late and we are both tired. Good night, Elizabeth.”
    All the joy of the day had been drained away, leaving only an intense pain behind it. His hand was on the doorknob. In another moment he would be gone—and they would be forever estranged. She would not be able to bear it.
    â€œMr. Chambers,” she said. She lifted one hand to her mouth even as he paused without turning. “Edwin. Please don’t leave.”
    He turned his head to look at her.
    â€œPlease don’t,” she whispered.
    He did not move and so she did. She crossed the room to the bed, removed her slippers, and lay down on her back, all without looking at him. He stood there at the door for a few moments longer before walking to the mantel and blowing out the candles. There was still plenty of light from the fire and the window to illumine his way to the bed.
    And enough light for Elizabeth to see when he removed his dressing robe that he wore nothing beneath it. At first she was shocked, but she did not look away. She had never thought of any man as beautiful. Handsome, yes, but not beautiful. Edwin was beautiful—all well-muscled, perfectly proportioned male beauty.
    He lay down beside