Gillian looked up into his gray eyes and wondered how she could ever have thought them icy. They blazed now with a fiery heat that warmed her down to her bare toes. She didn’t care how much discomfort the evening held. He could pinch her black and blue, he could torture her, he could stretch her out on the rack in his dungeon—just so long as she could stand in the blaze of those glorious eyes.

He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her tighter. “Nethercote doesn’t have a dungeon. Did your aunt explain tonight’s proceedings to you?”

“Well, she tried. I am afraid I lost track of what she was saying at some point. I had hoped you would explain it all to me.” Gillian looked so wistful Noble couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He knew from her reactions to the few chaste kisses they had shared that she had an untapped font of passion simmering just below the surface, but he had assumed that like most virgins she would view her wedding night with trepidation or horror.

“I’d rather show you than explain it,” he murmured against her hair, slipping her dressing gown off her shoulders. Gillian shivered as the air reached her through the delicate linen of her night rail.

“Cold, sweetheart?” Noble asked, nibbling his way down the ivory column of her neck and along her collarbone. Gillian clutched both hands in his hair and held on for dear life. She had no idea what he was doing—Aunt Honoria certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about him tasting her—but she didn’t want the wonderful sensations to stop. He dipped his tongue into the hollow behind one ear and suckled on an earlobe.

“Dear God in heaven,” she moaned. Surely this wasn’t right. Surely Noble shouldn’t be sending flames of desire licking down her body. Licking, oh lord, he was licking her! Gillian’s skin prickled as her night rail was pushed down over her shoulders, over her hips, and left to pool around her ankles. Before she had time to comment on the embarrassing situation of her nakedness, he picked her up, headed for her bed, paused, then turned and carried her through to his chamber. Gillian didn’t have a chance to take an inventory of the bedchamber before she was settled with exquisite gentleness on his bed. She propped herself up on one elbow and watched closely as he disrobed.

“Well! That answers a good many questions,” she muttered, staring at his arousal. Then, to Noble’s complete surprise, utter amazement, and undying gratitude, she reached out and touched him.

“Yes indeed, it explains much. Am I hurting you?” she asked, concerned about the grunt of pain that had accompanied her touch.

Gently, ever so gently, Noble pried his wife’s hands off his nether regions and, gritting his teeth with the determination not to shame himself ten minutes into his wedding night, he pushed her back onto the bed and lay down beside her, panting slightly.