Claiming His Wedding Night by Lee Wilkinson Page A

supper on his patio, he had surprised her by slipping a ring onto her finger and asking her formally to marry him.
    Her heart overflowing, she had accepted, with the proviso that they kept their engagement a secret for the time being at least.
    Until then, because of her father’s opposition, their relationship, though passionate, had been confined to kisses and caresses, and talk of “being together” once her father was well enough.
    Since their first meeting, Jared had treated her as the innocent she was, but that night, as they sat together on the swing seat, eager to be his in every sense of the word, she had made the running.
    After undoing his shirt buttons, she had slid her hands inside, running them over his muscular chest, finding the sprinkling of crisp body hair and the small leathery nipples.
    When she’d felt him get restive beneath her touch, she’d started to unfasten the clip on the waistband of his trousers. Catching hold of her hands, he had held them away and asked with mock severity, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing?’
    ‘I’m turning you on,’ she had answered daringly. ‘Or, rather, I’m trying to.’
    ‘You’re succeeding,’ he had warned her grimly. ‘So, unless you’re prepared to take the consequences…’
    ‘Yes, please,’ she had whispered, lifting her face for his kiss, and hand in hand they had walked into the house.
    It had been the most wonderful night of her life, a night that had seen her transformed from a naive girl into a woman.
    Though a complete innocent, she had tendered passion for passion with a joyous abandon that had filled Jared’s heart with gladness.
    Afterwards, lying in his arms, his ring on her finger, her happiness and contentment had been complete. He had proved to be a marvellous lover, not only masterful and heartbreakingly tender, but skilled and experienced.
    That last thought had brought a slight cloud of unease and jealousy with it. Though he was the right type to be a good lover—generous, unselfish and passionate—she was well aware that all his skill and experience had needed to be acquired .
    Biting her lip, she had tried hard to push that sudden doubt to the back of her mind.
    The following morning before she went home, he had bought her an antique gold chain with a chunky gold locket that opened to hold the ring. Fastening it round her neck, he had said, ‘Now you can wear it next to your heart until we can tell the world.’
    He had added that he would always love her and promised to be faithful, and she had believed him.
    More fool her.
    All the old bitterness and disillusionment returned in full force, reminding her, if such a reminder was necessary, just why she couldn’t face the thought of going back to him.
    A fresh rush of agitation brought her to her feet. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed now,’ she said jerkily.
    Though he frowned a little, as if he’d been following her train of thought, he agreed levelly, ‘It’s been a long day so I think I’ll join you.’
    She stiffened. Suppose he meant that literally?
    But he had turned away and was snapping his fingers at the dog. ‘Come on, Sam. Bed time.’
    They made their way into the house and Jared closed and locked the glass panels before shutting Sam in the kitchen.
    Unable to judge from Jared’s expression exactly what his intentions were, Perdita held her breath as he escorted her along to her bedroom.
    Having opened the door for her, he made no attempt to follow her inside but simply said, ‘Goodnight, Perdita. Sleep well.’
    ‘Goodnight,’ she answered huskily.
    She was about to turn away when he lifted her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips. Though he wasn’t holding her in any way, that sweetest of caresses kept her rooted to the spot.
    Even when he lifted his head and walked away, she stayed exactly where she was, still as any statue, until the sound of his bedroom door closing brought her back to life.
    Forcing her weak knees to carry