Alex leaned forward and silenced her with his mouth. His fingers suddenly moved from being gentle and soothing to being hard and sure. Charlotte couldn’t help it. Her hand fell from his arm; she tore her mouth from his and moaned out loud. Alex’s heart was racing and he had an erection that would take a week to subside, but he felt ecstatic. Not only had he talked sweet, sweet Charlotte into being his wife, but she had a natural passion to match his. The tales he had heard so often from men in the ton, about wives who lay like unhappy sticks, the unpleasant matings endured on both sides only in order to have children, flashed through his mind. Charlotte’s mouth was open, her lips crimson and swollen from his kisses. She was breathing in small, fast pants. He moved a finger into her tight, wet canal and she shook visibly, moaning again, her head moving restlessly from side to side.

Alex leaned over her, his left hand caressing her breast, his mouth taking hers again, stifling her imploring moans as she strained forward against his finger. It was all Alex could do not to jerk down his breeches and drive into her. The only thing stopping him … well, the only thing stopping him, he thought, was himself. Charlotte was completely lost, her breath coming in catches and starts, sensation racing through her body.

Suddenly her body stiffened and she grabbed his shoulders with a fierce grip.

“Alex!” she cried, and “Alex!” Alex devoutly hoped that no one was in the hallway. Charlotte’s body convulsed into a hundred starry, shattered pieces. Prickles of sweat broke out all over her body. Alex grimly hung on to the last of his self-control as her lovely body convulsed against his, ragged moans escaping her lips.

There was silence in the Chinese Salon. Alex looked up at the ceiling and prayed for mastery of his body. He hadn’t felt this close to disaster since he was an adolescent. Charlotte would undoubtedly be wrenchingly embarrassed when she realized what had happened. He had to resume control of his aching, throbbing erection. Finally he looked back.

Charlotte was leaning against her corner of the divan, looking not embarrassed, but stunned.

Alex leaned over and caressed her face.

“What was that?” she finally said.

“What?” Alex said. He didn’t understand her question.

“What happened to me?” She looked straight at him, her slender eyebrows flying toward her curls.

Alex couldn’t help it; he grinned. “You had an orgasm. In France they call them la petite mort— the little death.”

Charlotte looked thoughtful. “Will it happen again?”

Alex almost laughed aloud. “I promise,” he said. “I promise.”

Charlotte thought about this while she pulled up the sleeves to her morning gown and shrugged her skirt down to its proper position. Then she reached past Alex and took a cucumber sandwich from the tray Campion brought.