Was there anything more glorious than being held and kissed by Jasper Blunt? If there was, she couldn’t think of it. Couldn’t even dream of it. He’d exceeded all her wildest imaginings.

And this was but a glimpse of marital intimacy.

There was more still to come. All she need do was say the word and he would take her. Have her. Make her his in every way.

The only obstacle was her own conscience.

It was no minor impediment. If she submitted to her desires, she’d have to live with the fact that she’d given herself to a man with a notoriously evil past. A man who still had secrets he wouldn’t share. Worse secrets, perhaps.

Would it be worth it? Risking her heart and her principles, her very future, for a few moments of pleasure in his arms?

He deepened their kiss, and for one smoldering moment, she almost believed it would be.

But no.

Her fingers twined tight into his hair. “Wait,” she breathed. “Wait, wait.”

His mouth stilled on hers. There was a taut pause, as if he were marshaling his senses, then gradually—reluctantly—he straightened, loosening his grip on her. “Forgive me. I forget what a great big brute I am.” He looked down at her with genuine concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. I’m not that fragile.” A blush burned in her face. She sunk her voice, admitting, “I like it when you hold me and kiss me so fiercely.”

His gray eyes gleamed. “Do you?”

“It’s terribly exciting.” She smoothed her hands down the front of his waistcoat, feeling a tad possessive of him. “Perhaps I shouldn’t admit to that.”

“On the contrary.” He bowed his head to hers, his deep voice dropping to a confiding murmur. “You must tell me everything that pleases you.”

Her stomach clenched.

She reminded herself that they were in the entrance hall, not their bedchamber, and that this was the middle of the day, not the dark of night.

As for her other qualms, she needed no reminding.

“It would please me,” she said carefully, “if we could have fewer secrets between each other.”

Twenty-Eight

Jasper’s body had been poised for action, his blood warm and his muscles tight with burgeoning arousal. He’d wanted to kiss Julia again. Indeed, given the chance, he’d have picked her up and carried her to bed and shown her just how little disappointed he was in his choice of bride.

But not now.

Her words were as effective at dampening his ardor as a bucket of cold water.

He stared down at her. “ No more secrets? Julia, you promised me—”

“I didn’t say no more,” she corrected him. “I said fewer. There’s a difference.”

“We agreed—”

“I know what we agreed. But surely, you can’t object to sharing some of your secrets with me. Not now we’re married.”

A flare of anger took him unaware. He might have backed away from her if she didn’t have such a relentless grip on his waistcoat. “What secrets of mine did you have in mind?” he asked. “And which of your own conditions are you willing to relinquish in exchange? Shall I forbid you from keeping those kittens? Or perhaps I’ll restrict your reading, or—”