He felt light-headed, giddy almost. His arm tightened around his wife, snuggled up against his side, her head resting against his shoulder, her warmth wrapping him in a cocoon of happiness. She hadn’t betrayed him, he gloated to himself as he breathed in the perfume that was Gillian. He had been right in judging her a suitable mate. She was everything he could possibly want in a woman—intelligent, loving, kindhearted, spirited—and she was his and his alone. She’d never give herself to any other man.

Noble felt a wellspring of happiness bubble up from the light that glowed strongly within him and rejoiced at its appearance. Gone were the layers of ice that had held him in their frigid grip for so many years. Gone were the dark corners of his soul that harbored doubts and suspicion and distrust—her light had vanquished them. Gone was the crippling pain of loneliness that he had not known held him tight in its misanthropic embrace until she had destroyed that too.

Noble felt freer than he had since he was a young man. He was free to glory in all the emotions other men had: love, happiness, and joy. For the first time since he had achieved manhood, Noble purposely let the reins of control slip from his fingers and wallowed in the delightful feeling such an action brought with it. He kissed the top of Gillian’s head while he mused that no more would he live by the mandates of order and rigid structure. He and Gillian and Nick would live in happy, glorious chaos, and he’d enjoy every damned minute of it.

He looked down at the cause of all his joy. She was sleeping, her face buried in his neck, her sweet, gentle breath feathering his skin with the softness of down. Good. She’d need her sleep. He had plans to honor this new happiness, and she’d need her strength to celebrate fully with him. He would have rubbed his hands together with glee but for his armful of wife. He contented himself with planning his celebration.

He would introduce her to all the ways of loving, all of the positions he knew, and probably a few he made up on the spot. He was feeling very inventive at the moment.

He would begin by loving her from the tips of her elegant toes to the top of that fiery crown, paying tribute to all the parts in between. He would kiss his way up those long legs, pause for a moment at the gates of heaven, then continue up over her gently rounded belly to those delicious twin peaks of pleasure. After paying his respects there, he would pause only long enough to make sure each graceful arm received its due attention, then move up to plunder that sweet mouth until she moaned and arched up against him.

Yes, yes, it was a good plan. First he’d start with mapping her terrain, then he’d be the stallion to her mare, and then, once she had caught her breath again, he’d let her ride him. He had planned on saving the activities they’d shared earlier in Lady Gayfield’s bedchamber for another time, but that couldn’t be helped. No, there was still much he could show her, but slowly, so as not to shock her. He reminded himself that she was new to the intimacies of the bedchamber, and with reluctance scratched off the list some of the more athletic variations. Simple was best. First the homage to her sweet, lush body, then stallion and mare, then he’d let her ride him, and then a long, long episode with them both on their sides, legs twined together, bodies moving in that delicious rhythm…perhaps that ought to move up on the list. First homage, then stallion and mare, then a sweet loving facing each other on their sides, followed by…