He frowned. "Since you're never going to try to fool me, that fact isn't significant, is it?"

"No."

He waited another minute or two, and when she didn't explain, he asked her again. "Tell me what's bothering you."

She turned her gaze to the floor. "This is… awkward for me, seeing you after…"

"After what?"

"Last night."

A faint blush turned her cheeks pink. Colin found her reaction delightful-arousing, too. He pulled her onto his lap, then nudged her chin up and smiled at her. "And?" he prodded.

"In the light of day, the memory of what we did together makes me feel a little embarrassed."

"The memory makes me want you again."

Her eyes widened over his gruff confession. "But you can't."

"Sure I can," he told her cheerfully.

She shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.

He frowned. "Why can't you?"

Her blush felt as though it was burning her skin. "Isn't it enough that I tell you I can't?"

"Hell, no, it isn't enough."

She turned her gaze to her lap. "You're making this difficult," she remarked. "If my mother was here I could talk to her, but…"

She didn't continue. The sadness in her voice made him forget his irritation. She was worrying about something and he was determined to find out what it was. "You can talk to me," he said. "I'm your husband, remember? We shouldn't have any secrets between us. You liked making love," he added with a nod.

He sounded terribly arrogant to her. "Perhaps," she replied, just to prick his temper.

He let her see his exasperation. "Perhaps? You came apart in my arms," he whispered. The memory made his own voice harsh. "Have you forgotten so soon?"

"No. I haven't forgotten. Colin, you hurt me."

She blurted out that truth and waited for him to apologize. She would tell him about her injury then and he would understand why he couldn't touch her again.

"Baby, I know I hurt you."

The heat in his voice, so rough, so masculine, made her shiver. She shifted in his lap. He immediately grabbed hold of her hips to hold her still. She didn't have any idea what the conversation was doing to him, of course-having her sweet bottom rubbing so intimately against him made him hard with desire.

Alesandra wasn't embarrassed any longer. She was irritated because she had just realized her husband was callous in his attitudes. He didn't seem at all contrite.

The disgruntled look on her face made him smile. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice soothing now. "It won't hurt like that again."

She shook her head. She wouldn't look into his eyes and turned her gaze to his chin. "You don't understand," she whispered. "Something… happened."

"What happened?" he asked, holding on to his patience.

"I bled. It was on the sheets and I…"

He finally understood. Colin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He had two purposes in mind. One, he wanted to hold her, and two, he didn't want her to see his smile. She might think he was laughing at her.

She didn't want his embrace at all, but he was much stronger than she was and much more determined. He was going to soothe her whether she wanted him to or not. When she finally gave in and relaxed against him, he let out a sigh and rubbed his chin against the top of her head. "And you thought something was wrong, didn't you? I should have explained. I'm sorry. You've been worrying for no reason."

The tenderness in his voice calmed her fear just a little. She still wasn't certain she believed him, though. "Are you telling me I was supposed to bleed?"

She sounded suspicious-and appalled at the very idea. Colin didn't laugh. "Yes," he announced. "You were supposed to bleed."

"But that's… barbaric."

He disagreed with that opinion. He told her he found it both pleasing and arousing, and she immediately announced that he was barbaric, too.

Alesandra had lived in a cocoon with the nuns. She'd arrived as a little girl and left as a woman. She hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone about the changes taking place in her body or talk about the feelings those changes evoked, and Colin counted himself blessed because her sensuality hadn't been destroyed or marred. The mother superior might not have wanted to talk about sex, but she hadn't filled Alesandra's head with a lot of frightening nonsense. The nun had elevated the marriage act, too, by using such euphemisms as temple and worship, and even noble and worthy, and because of her attitude, Alesandra hadn't believed it was degrading or foul.

His sweet bride was like a butterfly emerging from her isolated shelter. Her own sensuality and her passionate response probably scared the hell out of her.

"I'm fortunate the nuns didn't warp you by planting fears in your head," he remarked.

"Why would they?" she asked, clearly puzzled. "The wedding vows we took are sacred. It would have been a sin to mock the sacrament."

Colin was so pleased with her, he hugged her. He apologized again because she had fretted needlessly, and then explained in detail exactly why she was supposed to bleed. He didn't stop there. The mother superior had told Alesandra that a child was the noble and worthy result of the union. Colin explained exactly how conception occurred. He talked about the differences in their bodies while he rubbed her back in a lazy fashion. The spontaneous lecture lasted nearly twenty minutes. She'd been embarrassed when he began his explanation, but his matter-of-fact attitude soon helped her get over her shyness. She was extremely curious about his body and plied him with questions. He answered all of them.

She was vastly relieved when he'd finished. She leaned away from him, thinking to give him her thank you for explaining, but the warm glint in his eyes made her forget what she was about to say. She kissed him instead. "Did you honestly believe we would never…" She wouldn't let him finish. "I worried we couldn't."

"I want you now."

"I'm too tender," she whispered. "And you did just say it would take a few days to feel better."

"There are other ways to find fulfillment."

Her curiosity was pricked. "There are?" she asked in a breathless whisper.

He nodded. "Lots of ways."

The way he was staring at her made her restless with desire. A warm glow was forming in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly wanted to get a little closer to him. She put her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his hair, and smiled at him. "How many ways?"

"Hundreds," he exaggerated.

The way he was smiling at her told her he was teasing. She responded in kind. "Then I should probably take notes while you explain them to me. I wouldn't want to forget one or two."

He laughed. "Demonstration is more fun than taking notes."

"Begging your pardon, milord, but you have a visitor downstairs."

Alesandra almost jumped off Colin's lap when the sound of Flannaghan's voice reached her. Colin wouldn't let her go. He continued to look at his bride when he spoke to his servant. "Who is it?"

"Sir Richards."

"Damn."

"Don't you like him?" asked Alesandra. Colin let out a sigh. He lifted Alesandra off his lap and stood up. "Sure I like him," he replied. "The damn was because I know he won't be put off. I'll have to see him. Flannaghan, send him up."

The butler immediately left to fetch the director. Alesandra turned to leave. Colin grabbed her hand and pulled her back. He put his arms around her, leaned down, and gave her a long kiss. His mouth was hot, wet, demanding, and when he pulled back, she was trembling with desire. Her uninhibited response pleased him. "Later," he whispered before he let her go.

The dark promise in his eyes left no doubt as to what he was talking about. Alesandra didn't trust her voice yet, so she simply nodded her agreement. She turned and walked out of the study. Her hands shook when she brushed her hair back over her shoulders and she bumped into the wall when she turned to go back down the hallway. She let out a little sigh over her own sorry condition. AH the man had to do was look at her and her mind turned into lettuce. One kiss and she wilted in his arms.

It was a fanciful thought, she admitted, yet all too true. Perhaps, once the newness of having a husband had worn off, she would become accustomed to Colin. She certainly hoped so, for she didn't want to spend the rest of her life bumping into walls and walking around in a daze.

She didn't want to ever take him for granted either. That thought made her smile. Colin would never let her become lax. He was a demanding, lustful man, and if last night was any indication, she also had those same qualities.

Alesandra went back into Colin's bedroom and stood by one of the windows looking out. It was a glorious day and all because Colin wanted her. She must have been perfect last night, she thought to herself. It hadn't been idle praise on his part, or he wouldn't have wanted her so soon again today, would he?

Wanting and loving weren't the same. Alesandra understood that truth well enough. She thought of herself as a realist. Yes, Colin had married her because of duty. She couldn't change that fact. She couldn't make him love her either, of course, but she believed that in time his heart would belong to her. She had already become his friend, hadn't she?

It was going to be a good, strong marriage. Both of them had taken a vow in front of God and witnesses to live as husband and wife until death did they part. Colin was too honorable to break his commitment to her, and surely in the years to come he would learn to love her.

She was already falling in love with him. Alesandra immediately shook her head in denial. She wasn't ready to think about her own feelings.

Alesandra's own vulnerability frightened her. Marriage, she decided, was far more complex than she'd ever imagined.

"Princess Alesandra, will I disturb you if I put fresh sheets on the bed?"

She turned and smiled at Flannaghan. "I would be happy to help you."

He reacted as though she'd just called him a foul word. He looked appalled. She laughed. "I do know how to change sheets, Flannaghan."

"You've actually…"

He was too flabbergasted to continue. She found his behavior puzzling. "Where I lived before I came to England I was fully responsible for my clothes and my bedroom. If I wanted the luxury of clean sheets, I changed them."

"Who would demand such a thing from a princess?"

"The mother superior," she answered. "I lived in a convent," she explained. "And I wasn't given special treatment. I was happy not to be thought of as different."

Flannaghan nodded. "Now I understand why you're so unspoiled," he blurted out. "I-I meant that as a compliment," he added in a stammer.

"Thank you," she answered.

The butler hurried over to the bed and began to unfold the linens. "I've already put fresh sheets on your bed, Princess. I'll turn the covers down for you directly after dinner."

His explanation confused her. "Why would you go to the trouble? I thought I would sleep with my husband in his bed."

Flannaghan didn't notice the worry in her voice. He was busy with his task of tucking the bottom sheet into a perfect corner fold. "Milord told me you would be sleeping in your own room," he told her.

The half-given explanation confused her even more. She turned around and pretended to look out the window so Flannaghan wouldn't see her expression. She doubted she could keep the hurt from showing in her eyes.

"I see," she replied for lack of anything better to say. "Did Colin explain why?"

"No," Flannaghan answered. He straightened up and walked around to the other side of the bed. "In England, most of the husbands and wives sleep in separate quarters. It's just the way it's done here."

Alesandra started to feel a little better. Then Flannaghan continued with his explanation. "Of course, Colin's brother, Caine, doesn't follow that dictate. Sterns is the marquess's man. He's my uncle, too," he added with a note of pride in his voice. "He let it slip once that his employer and his wife never sleep apart."

She was instantly miserable again. Of course Caine and Jade slept in the same bed. They happened to love each other. She wagered the duke and duchess only shared one bedroom, too, for they, too, held great affection for each other.

Alesandra straightened her shoulders. She wasn't going to ask Colin why he didn't want her in his bed. She did have her pride, after all. The man was making it perfectly clear how he felt about their marriage. First he cut his hair and now he was going to make her sleep alone. So be it, she decided. She certainly wasn't going to have hurt feelings. No, of course not. It would be a bother having to share a bed. She didn't need his warmth during the night and she certainly wouldn't miss being held in his arms.