He had to wonder, however. Had she also been celibate all this time? The way she’d said, “It’s been so long,” made him wonder. Perhaps she’d meant with him, but he hoped she’d meant with anyone. He wanted to believe that. Of course, he hadn’t ever dared to ask, or to pretend he cared. It was an unspoken rule that she would not produce someone else’s bastard and try to pretend as if it was his child, but he hadn’t been able to contemplate the idea that she may have been unfaithful. Though she’d been convinced he’d been unfaithful to her, which allowed her an excuse. It was just that…the thought of another man touching Veronica ripped Sebastian apart inside. It made him want to destroy things. He didn’t want to contemplate it even now. But something in her demeanor, her words, her uncertainty at first, had told him she’d been untouched all this time. And that thought made him smile, made him breathe a sigh of relief. The woman may not trust him, but God, how he wanted her. Even now. Their lovemaking hadn’t slaked his desire. It had only inflamed it. He wanted her again. Already.

A faint noise coming from the bath chamber caught his attention. She was…humming. He grinned, then pushed himself out of the bed, located his breeches, and pulled them on.

Clad only in his breeches, he strolled into the bath chamber, where he stopped near the door and propped his shoulder against the frame, watching her as she soaped a slender arm. “Might it be that our, ahem, time in bed this afternoon is the reason for your good mood?”

Her eyes widened, and she dunked beneath the water until the bubbles covered her head. A moment later, she emerged tentatively, ensuring the bubbly water covered her breasts. Such a shame.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, eyeing him carefully.

He arched a brow. “You object? After what we just did in the bedchamber?”

A shocked smile played across her pink lips, and she splashed water toward him. “This isn’t the bedchamber,” she answered primly, lifting her nose in the air.

He pushed himself away from the door and stalked toward her, capturing her gaze with his. When he reached the side of the tub, he leaned down and trailed a finger into the steamy water. “Yes, but I also seem to recall a time in Paris when we—”

“Sebastian!” She clutched an arm over her breasts this time.

He chuckled. “Ah, I see you remember it too.” He leaned across the tub, bracing a hand on each side and gave her a positively roguish stare. “Baths can be quite amusing with the right partner.”

She gave him a condemning glare. “Be that as it may,” she said, clearing her throat. “I would like some privacy now, if you don’t mind.”

“A pity,” he said with a sigh before straightening and turning back toward the door. “But I’ll go.”

Sebastian sauntered back into the bedchamber, retrieved his shirt, and pulled it over his head. Yes, even after their lovemaking—he refused to call it anything else, even if she insisted on it—it was clear his stubborn wife still didn’t trust him. He’d told her he hadn’t been with Melissa, at least not sexually, but Veronica refused to believe it. She had proof of his lie in the form of a note from Melissa. But the fact remained he hadn’t touched Melissa since well before his and Veronica’s engagement, let alone the wedding. What his stubborn, infuriating wife didn’t know was that he actually had been madly in love with her. Only he hadn’t said it before…before she’d left him. And now he had to live with that regret.