Moonspun Magic by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter [Coulter, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780451211873
Google: FNsLAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0451211871
Barnesnoble: 0451211871
Goodreads: 958667
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1987-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

She sounded worried, so he kissed her neck.

“I’m not going to go any further, else the bread will never make its way to the oven. All right?”

She wanted him to continue, no question about that, and damn the wretched bread. But she was a lady, she reminded herself, and a virgin, and a maiden, and all those proper things, and she shouldn’t want lovemaking in the kitchen.

“All right.”

He kissed her neck again, then stepped back.

“Now, the next thing we do is add a bit more water.”

She did as he told her. He was delighted in a most basic masculine way to see that her hands were shaking a bit.

Their finished product, both of them agreed, wasn’t a profoundly satisfactory result, but it ranked above Mrs. Ripple’s efforts. They ate the hot bread in the kitchen, smearing it with sweet butter and strawberry jam.

Between bites, Rafael was telling her one of his adventures near Gibraltar, in the Mediterranean.

Victoria listened with half an ear. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off his mouth.

“Victoria, what do you want?”

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Your story’s fascinating,” she said.

“You weren’t paying a bit of attention to my ridiculous tale. One, I might add, that I was telling you on purpose, for it didn’t involve any missions or assignments on my part, just simple trading and making money.”

He paused a moment, readying to screw himself to the sticking point. So what if in the deepest recesses of his mind he was still very uncertain about her?

He said in his best calm captain’s voice, “I believe you and I trust you. I want you to be my wife. I want to consummate our marriage. Now.”

She stared at him, moistening her suddenly dry lips with her tongue. Rafael, although she didn’t notice, found the movement of her pink tongue quite fascinating. “You have,” she said at last, “made two very big statements all in one breath. I would ask you first: why? All of a sudden—perhaps because I made bread with you—you don’t believe me to be a trollop?”

“That’s right, but it came before the bread.”

She waited, but he added nothing more. She frowned at him. “You’ve perhaps decided I’m not a trollop because I eat warm bread with just the right amount of butter?”

“No.” Well, he thought. If one committed an untruth, one should do it to the best of one’s meager abilities. “I realized—and I am just a man, don’t forget, Victoria—that you are utterly guileless and innocent as a babe. And you’re right. The fact that I touch you and you melt all over me, well, that simply means that you respond to me, Rafael Carstairs, your husband and an excellent lover.” He paused a moment, judging the effect of his fluency.

She lowered her eyes, saying softly, “I was thinking about that, you know. When Damien kissed me, I was repelled and horrified. As for David Esterbridge, I just didn’t feel anything. I would have thought it was very distasteful if it hadn’t been so very personal and intimate.

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