Mad Jack by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Regency, Man-Woman Relationships, Regency Fiction, Family, London (England), Man-Woman Relations, General, Romance, Historical, Fiction, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780515124200
Publisher: Jove
Published: 1999-02-01T07:00:00+00:00

18

JACK STARED down at herself, utterly appalled, once she got over the urge to yell that she was bleeding to death. Thank God she wasn’t still bleeding; she would be all right, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t going to die. But what about the next time?

No, that was ridiculous. This sex business wouldn’t have continued very long if it ended with the woman bleeding to death. Surely that would get out and other women would find out and run. They would also quickly learn how to use swords and guns to keep the men away.

Still, it was dreadful all the same. Now that she knew she’d live, she shuddered, embarrassment seeping to her bones. He’d done this to her. He’d even looked at her while he was shoving inside her, making her bleed. He must have known what he was doing, what would happen when he’d finished. When Gray came around the screen a few moments later, she yelped like a wounded cat and grabbed up her wrinkled gown in front of her.

He saw the blood on her legs before she managed to hide behind that gown. Surely she knew about a virgin bleeding? He looked at her face and realized she was as ignorant as she was mortified.

“Well, hell,” he said, instantly raising his hand. “I know, turnips. But believe me, a mild curse is appropriate in this instance.” She’d bled. He’d been a clod—more than a clod, a careless bastard who should be shot. At least now maybe he could ease her through this. He saw the shine in her eyes and knew she was close to tears.

“You could have killed me.”

As matter-of-fact as would a parent to a three-year-old child, he said, “No, Jack, sex isn’t a killing business. Virgins bleed the first time. It’s natural. It looks as if you’re more virginal than most virgins. No, don’t feel like you should cover yourself. We’re married. I’m your husband. You’re a mess. Let me help you get cleaned up.” He held out his hand. “I’m really sorry, Jack. I will make it up to you, I promise. Next time—”

“Next time? Do you believe me a perfect dolt?” She stared at his hand as if it were a snake to bite her. “Go away. You did this to me. Go away.”

His bride of less than half a day was clearly perturbed. Perhaps she was even beyond perturbed, perhaps close to violence. She did rather look like she would enjoy bashing him with a log, or worse. He was relieved she didn’t have a knife close by.

Taking his life in his hands, he said, “I didn’t know you could make your breasts blush.”

She looked down at herself, blanched, grabbed her slipper off the rug, and hurled it at him.

He just laughed, grabbed her arms, and hauled her over to that big bed, the one Douglas had raved about, and shoved her down. He let her keep her gown as cover.

“Don’t move,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m going to clean you up.

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