She hesitated. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Whether or not you are physically a virgin now, it will make no difference to our future.”

“Are you sure? Because if I’m not, I don’t want you throwing it up in my face whenever we quarrel.”

He arched a brow. “Will we quarrel?”

“We’re bound to.”

“I see. Well, as long as we make it up in bed, I’ll accept that. And whatever the outcome, I promise I won’t throw your virginity or lack of it in your face. In fact, I’m already bored with the subject. Can we go to bed now?”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her into his bedroom.

George glanced around the duke’s bedchamber. His servants had obviously prepared it. In the soft candlelight, everything gleamed with care and attention. As she’d observed earlier in the day, it was a very masculine room, with heavy carved furniture and curtains and bedcovers of rich dark red brocade, but now vases of flowers sat on the mantelpiece and on top of a chest of drawers. The delicate fragrance of the flowers mingled with the sharp, clean tang of beeswax. The furniture had been newly polished.

His enormous bed seemed bigger than ever. The heavy brocade coverlet was turned back invitingly, revealing fresh white sheets and pillows.

“Your staff has made a special effort.” She was pleased to hear she sounded almost normal, despite the butterflies thundering around her stomach.

He glanced around vaguely. “Have they? I hadn’t noticed. Oh, yes, flowers.” He pulled off his cravat and tossed it aside, then turned back to her. “Would you like me to act as your maid?”

Her maid? She gave him a blank stare.

He smiled. “I meant, do you need my help unfastening your gown? There being no one else in the house.”

“Erghmh.” Her mouth had gone completely dry.

Taking that as assent, he gently turned her around and began to undo her dress.

He stood close, so close she was aware of every point on her body where his body brushed against hers. She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled the scent of him. The spicy tang of his cologne and the scent of sun-dried sheets mingled with the fragrance of beeswax and flowers, but pleasant though they were, the scent that drew her, enticed her, aroused her was the warm, darkly enticing man scent of his body. Aroma of desire.

She stood stiffly while he slowly unhooked her, his breath warm on her neck. By the time he’d undone half a dozen of the hooks that ran down the back of her dress she’d had enough. “No, stop!” She turned around.

“Why? What’s the matter?”