Too late Clare read the brilliant warning in his eyes. She stepped back quickly, but not quickly enough.

Gareth scooped her up into his arms, took three long strides across the workroom, and dropped Clare squarely into a huge bin full of fresh blossoms and herbs.

Clare shrieked as she sank into the fragrant mass. Rose petals and lavender leaves wafted into the air.

The intense scent of fresh flowers engulfed her.

Before she could catch her breath, Gareth plunged into the bin. His mouth covered hers as his weight crushed her into the mountain of soft, fragrant petals.

12

Clare was overwhelmed by the feel of Gareth's body sprawled on top of her. His hands tangled roughly in her hair. His mouth was fierce and hot and urgent on hers. His scent made her head whirl even more than the fragrance of the massed petals in which she lay half buried.

She forgot all about the argument, the insults, and the outrage that had gripped her a moment earlier. Memories of the way Gareth had touched her last night flooded back, only to be swamped beneath the new excitement.

A thrilling elation swept through her, driving all else before it. She wanted to know those glorious sensations again.

Gareth tore his mouth from hers. "I congratulate you, madam. I know of no one else who can provoke me the way that you do. Now you must suffer the consequences."

Clare searched his eyes. "Are you truly angry with me?"

"I am not certain how I feel at the moment." Gareth's voice was rough and dark and dangerous. "I only know that when we have finished this, there will be no more talk of an annulment."

She shivered. "I never asked for an annulment. I only brought up the subject because you implied that you might not be able to do your duty in the marriage bed."

"You will discover soon enough that I intend to fulfill my responsibilities." Gareth bent his head and took her lips once more. His tongue invaded her mouth.

Clare's fingers clenched in his hair as she responded to the deep kiss.

He was attempting to intimidate her, she thought, mayhap even frighten her a bit. But it was impossible.

She craved his touch, and the obvious passion in him set her own clamoring feelings ablaze.

Clare felt his leg sink between her thighs. He drew his knee upward, opening her to his touch. He caught hold of the skirts of her overtunic and the gown beneath it and pushed both all the way to her waist.

Clare shuddered and tightened her hands in his hair. She arched herself against his probing fingers.

"You are as wet as roses after rain." Gareth sounded awed. He stroked her the way he had last night, stroked her until she was trembling and desperate.

Clare clutched at him, her voice breaking on a soft, demanding little cry. She wrapped her leg around his, seeking more of him.

"Why in the name of all the saints did we waste last night?" Gareth whispered, his voice hoarse and strained. "I was a fool." He eased one finger gently into her.

Clare moaned. Her body tightened around him. She gulped air. "It was my fault. I was confused. I thought I wanted to wait."

"You were confused and I was an idiot. What a pair." Gareth dropped a string of heated kisses down her throat to her shoulder. He probed her with a second finger.

"Oh." Clare gasped. "Oh."

"So tight. A sweet, unopened bud."

"Does that diminish your enthusiasm, my lord?" she asked anxiously.

He groaned and lowered his head to kiss the curve of her breast. "Nay, madam, it does not."

She smiled, vastly relieved. "I am glad."

"I seriously doubt that the combined forces of both heaven and hell could diminish my enthusiasm at this moment."

Clare could feel him stretching her, making her grow soft and even more damp than she already was.

She was shaking with her need now. The magical tension that she had first experienced last night was twisting her insides again.

Anticipation made her restless and impatient.

"Hurry." She nipped at his ear. "Please, hurry."

Gareth raised his head and looked down at her. His eyes were as mysterious as the mist that sometimes shrouded Desire. "I have married a tyrant."

"You must forgive me, my lord. I told you, I am accustomed to being in charge around here."

"When it comes to this, your wish is my command." Gareth loosened his own clothing, freeing his erect manhood.

Clare caught a glimpse of his aroused body as he centered himself between her legs. In spite of her spiraling excitement, she experienced a brief tremor of uncertainty. "Mayhap we should try to diminish some of your enthusiasm before we proceed further."

"It is far too late to do anything to diminish my enthusiasm."

"I did not mean to offend you. Tis not your fault that you are not the right size." She hugged him tightly and kissed his throat. "I'm sure we'll manage somehow."

"Aye. We will."

"I am very enthusiastic myself now, Gareth."

"I can tell." He covered her mouth with his own and began to push himself into her.

Clare, expecting a sensation similar to that which she experienced when he slid his fingers into her, was startled by the blunt, hard feel of him.

He pressed harder and she was more than startled. She was stunned.

"Gareth."

"Trust me."

"Wait, we must discuss this matter further," Clare squeaked.

"It was your earlier discussion of the matter that got us this far."

"Aye, but?"

"Trust me, Clare," he whispered.

She braced herself and clung to him as if preparing to descend into the Pit. "I am ready," she said bravely.

"It is not going to be all that bad, you know." He thrust deeper. Sweat broke out on his brow. "At least, I do not think it will be too difficult."

Clare squeezed her eyes shut. "Tell me when it's over."

He gave an odd, half-strangled exclamation. "Aye, I'll try to remember to do that."

Clare felt him tense and draw in his breath as if readying himself for a dangerous feat of arms. He surged all the way into her, sheathing himself to the hilt with one powerful motion.

The shock of his entry stole Clare's voice and breath.

When she recovered, she clawed at Gareth's broad shoulders. She was furious at finding herself robbed of the thrilling pleasure she had expected.

"Joanna had the right of it. This part of marriage is, indeed, a great nuisance."

"Hold yourself still for a moment." Gareth sounded as shaken as she was.

"Be still, I said. Stop wriggling."

Clare opened her eyes and scowled up at him. "I thought it would feel the way it did last night."

"It will." Gareth was clearly fighting for his self-control. "Eventually."

"By Saint Hermione's little toe, you have tricked me, Hellhound."

"Nay, 'tis just that I have no experience with virgins."

"I knew you were too big," she grumbled. "I knew it right from the first moment I saw you."

Gareth rained soft, persuasive kisses across her nose and cheeks.

"Forgive me Clare. I did not want to hurt you."

The apology mollified her somewhat. "In truth, I am not in any great pain. At least not any longer. But I am very glad the business is finished."

"Clare?"

"You may cease now. Surely this marriage is properly consummated. You no longer need fear that I will have it annulled."

"For the last time, do not move," Gareth bit out each word very carefully and distinctly.

"I was merely attempting to find a more comfortable position."

"I will see to your comfort."

"You will remove yourself?"

"Not just yet."

She was disappointed. "Does that mean you have not yet finished doing your duty?"

"Aye." He began to glide slowly and cautiously back out of her.

"I can certainly understand now why it is difficult for a man to work up sufficient enthusiasm for this sort of thing night after night," Clare muttered.