He silenced her with a kiss and held her close. The repercussions of his ridiculous distrust still rippled. "My love," he whispered, "I am teasing you. Now, in that spirit, can you contrive to convince me that you love me for me?'
Swept up in a dizzying tide of passion and desire, fueled by his lips tickling her ear and his teeth nipping at her earlobe, she started to think that perhaps True was right. The physical side of the marriage was the last thing she needed to worry about. "I think tonight I just might be able to convince you, my husband."
He was grateful for the dark, for the surge of hunger that swept through him had its physical effects, and he wanted to go slowly, wanted to teach his beautiful wife that there was nothing to be afraid of in his love. Keeping his tone light with a great effort he nipped at her collarbone and said, "Perhaps I shall require nightly convincing, my heart's delight."
'I think—I think that I can promise you that," Arabella said, breathlessly, threading her fingers through his silky, straight hair. She gasped as his hand wandered over her curves, and began to wonder if they would ever get to the inn. It could not be too soon.
"Good. I look forward to that," he said, his voice muffled as his kisses trailed down her neck to her bosom.
And then no more words were said, as in the velvet-soft dark husband and wife made silent promises they would be delighted to keep.