ANDLES FLICKERED CHEERFULLY on the mantel and on the low table between them, left there by the maid who'd come to clear away their dinner plates. Curled up in a pretty chintz-covered settee, her stockinged feet tucked beneath her and Jordan's arm around her shoulders, holding her nestled into the curve of his arm, Alexandra had never felt so luxuriously, sublimely cozy.

Lifting her wineglass to her lips, she sipped the wine Jordan had seemed determined to press upon her for the last hour, wondering when he planned to retire to his own room. She wasn't entirely certain he even had a room of his own tonight. While she'd bathed in her room before dinner, he'd bathed in the small room adjoining hers, but there was only a narrow cot in there, obviously intended for use by a valet or lady's maid. Alexandra had no maid and was perfectly able to fend for herself; Jordan had said he preferred to leave his valet behind when he was only going on a short trip. Since neither of them had servants, she wondered if the inn was full and he therefore was forced to sleep in the adjoining room.

Firelight danced in the grate, dispelling the slight chill of the spring night, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room, and her thoughts drifted lazily from their sleeping accommodations to babies. Jordan had promised to show her how babies were made tonight. She couldn't imagine why married people persisted in keeping the method cloaked in so much mystery. However it was done, it couldn't be a dreadful thing, because English couples obviously did it often enough to keep the country's population growing.

Perhaps it was kept secret because Society didn't want girls like herself, who would have liked a baby with or without a husband, to go around getting babies on their own.

That, evidently, was it, she deduced logically. Since the beginning of time, men had made the rules and men had obviously been the ones to decree that a girl was "ruined" if she had a baby without marrying one of them first. That made sense. Still… the theory had certain holes…

A baby, she thought wistfully. A baby.

As an only child, the thought of having a dark-haired baby boy to cuddle and nurse and play with filled her with delight. Moreover, she'd read enough history to know how important a male heir was to men with titles—particularly titles as illustrious as Jordan's. The sudden realization that she would be the one to give Jordan his heir filled her with a poignant pride and joy that was almost past bearing.

She stole a glance at him through her lashes, and her heart skipped a beat. He was lounging back against the cushions, his white shirt open partway down his muscled chest, his tanned skin a golden bronze in the firelight With his dark, slightly curly hair, ruggedly chiseled features, and wonderful physique, Alexandra thought he looked like a god.

She wondered a little if she was behaving with a shocking lack of propriety, cuddling up to him like this, welcoming his kisses, but in truth she thought he was irresistibly wonderful. Besides, he was her husband before God and man, so she saw no reason to pretend she found his attentions unpleasant. Her grandfather, obviously worried about the impression of married life she was receiving from her parents' marriage, had lectured her gently but often on what marriage was supposed to be like. "There are two mistakes people make when it comes to marriage," he had repeatedly said. "The first mistake is marrying the wrong person. Once you are married to the right person, the second mistake is denying any part of yourself or your love to him. When you give your husband your unconditional love, he then has it to return to you."

Jordan's thoughts were less aimless and far more practical. He was, at that moment, trying to think of the easiest way to get her out of her clothes without scaring the hell out of her.

Above her, Alexandra felt Jordan's lips brush across the top of her head and she smiled with inner pleasure, but she was not surprised, because her husband had been kissing her like that rather frequently tonight. She was a little shocked a moment later, however, when he took her wineglass from her hand and abruptly pulled her onto his lap to kiss her long and passionately. And she was thoroughly flabbergasted when he lifted his lips from hers many minutes later and quietly but firmly suggested she use the screen in the corner of the room to change into her dressing gown.

Mentally searching through her trunks for the least indecent of the dressing gowns the French seamstress had made for her wedding trip, she stood up and inquired uneasily, "Where are you going to sleep?"

"With you," he blandly replied.

Alexandra's eyes narrowed suspiciously. For some reason, she sensed instinctively that this unprecedented decision to sleep beside her had something to do with the mystery of making a baby, and, without knowing exactly why, she suddenly wasn't completely certain she wanted to learn the secret after all. Not yet. "Wouldn't you rather have a nice, comfortable bed of your very own?" she suggested hopefully.

"Making a baby involves using one bed," he explained with calm patience, "not two."

Alexandra's eyes narrowed apprehensively. "Why?"

"I'll show you why in a few minutes."

"Couldn't you just tell me?" she implored persistently.

An odd, muffled sound escaped him, but he kept his face straight. "I'm afraid not."

Jordan watched her walk reluctantly toward the screen, and the grin he'd been fighting to hide flashed across his face as he admired her straight shoulders and gently swaying hips. She was already beginning to panic, he realized sympathetically, and he hadn't even touched her yet. Evidently a female was born with some sixth sense that warned her a male was dangerous and untrustworthy the moment she was without the protective barrier of her cumbersome clothing. Alexandra was full of surprises, he mused, as he gazed thoughtfully at the dressing screen. She had the mind of a scholar, the heart of an innocent, and the wit of a sage. One minute she was bold and daring enough to aim a rifle and kill a man who was trying to kill him—the next minute she was unconscious from shock because she had done it. She had broached the topic of sex with the impartial curiosity of a scientist; now that the time was at hand to experience it, she was shaking with trepidation and stalling for time.

Her fear bothered Jordan, but not enough to dissuade him from satisfying his body's unexplainable, but undeniable, craving for her. Although Alexandra was extremely young in comparison to the sophisticated, worldly women he had taken to bed in the past, she was certainly old enough to be wed and even to bear his child. Moreover, he had paid dearly for the privilege of enjoying her body—paid for it by giving her his name and his hand.

Regardless of that, as each moment ticked past, his enthusiasm for making love to her tonight was severely diminished by two things: First, Alexandra was completely unaware of what he was about to do to her, and when she figured it out, Jordan expected her to be not only fearful but very likely resistant. Second, even if she weren't frightened and resistant, he did not especially relish the prospect of bedding an inexperienced girl who was completely untutored in the fine art of lovemaking.

Unlike other men who turned their eye toward innocent maidens, Jordan had always preferred the women he bedded to be knowledgeable in the ways of love—sensual, willing partners who knew how to please him and who accepted the pleasure he gave them without shyness or reserve.

The fact that the women who sought his attention frequently did so because they wanted something—either his title or the reflected glow of his fame and popularity—didn't particularly bother Jordan. After all, he wanted something from them, too, and self-gratification was the very axis on which their entire glamorous world revolved. But whatever their reasons for inviting his attentions, when his ardor was spent, Jordan always preferred to sleep alone.

The sounds behind the screen had ceased and Jordan knew Alexandra was finished changing, just as he knew she was remaining behind the screen because she was afraid to show herself in her nightclothes.

Deciding that the most soothing thing he could do for her just now would be to treat the subject of clothing—or lack of it—in a calm, matter-of-fact way, Jordan got up and walked across the room, intending to pour himself another glass of wine. "Alexandra," he said in a firm, no-nonsense tone, "do you need any help undressing?"

"No!" came the horrified reply. "I—I've just finished."

"Then come out from behind that screen."

"I can't! Your grandmother's French seamstress is a madwoman—there are holes in everything she made for me."

"Holes?" Jordan repeated, nonplussed. Reaching for the bottle of wine, he glanced toward the screen. "What sort of 'holes'?"

She stepped from behind it, and Jordan stared at the indignant expression on her flushed face, then his gaze dropped to the daringly low oval bodice of her shimmering satin nightdress. "This nightdress," she announced, pointing an accusing finger at her exposed bodice, "has a hole cut out of the chest. The blue one has a square hole cut out of the back. The yellow one," she finished bitterly, "is the worst! It has a hole in the back, another in the front, and the side of the skirt is slashed up to my knees! That Frenchwoman," she finished darkly, "should not beallowed to hold a pair of scissors!"

Jordan gave a shout of laughter, snatched her into his arms, and buried his face in her fragrant hair, his shoulders rocking.

And in that moment, all the jaded cynicism of his past began to crumble.

"Oh, Alex," he gasped, "I can't believe you're real!"

Since she wasn't responsible for the design of these absurd clothes, Alex took no personal offense at his laughter but she warned him in a dire voice: "You won't be laughing when you see the rest of what you paid that woman good money for!"

With a superhuman effort, Jordan managed to subdue his mirth long enough to lift his head and gaze tenderly into her upturned, indignant face. "Why is that?"

"Because," she informed him darkly, "the gowns that don't have holes cut out of them are so sheer they're as transparent as windows!"

"Windo-?" For the second time, Jordan lost control. His shoulders shaking violently, he swung her up into his arms, captivated again by the sheer joy of her artlessness and unexpected wit.

He carried her to the bed, but when he took his arm from beneath her knees and her legs slid down his thighs, past his rigid erection, she tensed instantly. Uncertain, frightened suddenly—as if she sensed the meaning of his hardened body—her eyes searched his face. "What are you going to do to me?" she whispered shakily.

"I'm going to make love to you," he answered gently, deliberately vague.

Her entire body trembled. "How?"

Jordan smiled reassuringly, as touched by her fear as he was by the innocence in her huge liquid eyes. "I'll tell you as we go along," he promised, but when it was obvious that answer didn't satisfy her, he added, "To put it as simply as possible, the seeds of a baby are inside of me, and in a little while, I'll put them into you. But there's no way of knowing whether a baby will result from it this time. Alexandra," he added with gentle firmness, anticipating that some of the things he was going to do might seem "sinful" to her, "I give you my word that nothing we're going to do is 'wrong.' People do this whether they want a baby or not."

"They do?" she asked with heart-wrenching trust. "Why?"

Jordan bit back a smile, his fingers untying the satin bow at her breasts. "Because it feels good," he answered simply. He put his hands on her shoulders and, before Alexandra realized what he was about, her gown slid down her naked body, landing in a pool of shimmering satin at her feet. Jordan caught his breath at the unexpected beauty of her body. She was thin, but her breasts were surprisingly full, her waist tiny, and her legs long and shapely.

Her head bent, frozen with terror and embarrassment by her husband's gaze, Alexandra stood staring at her gown, relieved beyond words when Jordan reached down and lifted her onto the bed. Glad for the flimsy shelter offered by the sheet, she pulled it up to her chin and swiftly averted her gaze as Jordan began undressing beside the bed.

Sternly she tried to remind herself that human beings had been making babies since time began, and so there could be nothing bizarre or ugly about what Jordan was going to do to her. Furthermore, it was her duty to give him an heir, she knew, and she adamantly refused to begin their marriage by shirking her duty. Despite those sensible conclusions, when he slid in beside her and leaned over her, bracing his forearm on her opposite side, her heart began to race like a maddened thing. "W-what are you going to do?" she asked fearfully, unable to drag her gaze above the tanned muscular chest looming above her.

Jordan gently tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I'm going to kiss you and hold you close to me," he said in a voice as soft and caressing as velvet. "And I'm going to touch you. Later, something I do to you will hurt for a moment—only a moment," he promised. "I'll tell you when it's going to happen," he added, lest she begin dreading the pain long before it would come.

Her eyes widened with alarm at the mention of pain, but when she spoke it was with heartbreaking concern for him, rather than herself. "Will it hurt you, too?"

"No."

The girl who Jordan had feared would struggle and fight against him smiled tremulously and shyly laid her fingers against his cheek. "I'm glad," she said softly. "I wouldn't want you to be hurt."

A huge constricting knot of tenderness and desire tightened Jordan's throat and he bent his head, taking her lips in a fierce, stirring kiss, shaping and fitting the contours of her soft mouth to his. Forcing himself to go slower, Jordan deliberately lightened the pressure of his mouth, smoothing his lips tantalizingly back and forth over hers, his hand curving around her nape, stroking it sensually. His tongue traced the trembling line between her lips, coaxing them to part, and when they did, it slid between them, tangling with hers while his hand on her nape tightened possessively.

Driven by pure instinct and the pleasure coursing through her veins, Alexandra turned into his arms, and the moment she did, his strong arms went around her, molding her hips to the hardened contours of his. When she stiffened in alarm at the bold pressure of his hardened manhood and tried to draw back, his hand shifted comfortingly up and down her spine, holding her gently but firmly against him.

She quieted in his arms, but when his hand slid from her back to her breast, she gave a leap of alarm, recoiling from his touch, and this time Jordan reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers. Raising his head, he gazed into her apprehensive blue eyes, his thumb gently tracing the elegant curve of her jaw. "Don't be afraid of me, sweetheart."

Alexandra hesitated, her magnificent eyes searching deeply into his, and Jordan had the uncanny feeling she was looking into the depths of his black soul. What she saw, however, made her say softly, "You would never do anything to harm me, I know that. Although you seem hard on the outside, on the inside you are beautiful."

Her words struck some strange chord of intense feeling deep within Jordan. With a silent groan he bent his head, his mouth opening on hers with sudden, urgent hunger. This time she answered his passion with her own, her lips parting beneath his without urging, welcoming his tongue into her mouth and then giving him hers, her hands clasping him to her.

Without taking his mouth from hers, Jordan stroked his hand down her arm to her rib cage, then upward, cupping her breasts, circling her nipples with his thumb, feeling them rise up proudly against his palm. He kissed her temple, her eyes, and her cheek, then he nuzzled her neck, chuckling with throaty delight and desire as he touched his tongue to her sensitive ear and felt her press her body closer to his. His tongue plunged into it and she moaned with sweet desire, her nails biting into his arms.

Sliding his lips along the curve of her neck, Jordan moved lower, then he put his mouth where his hands had been, kissing her breasts, slowly drawing her hardened nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, teasing her with his mouth and hands. Her hands tangled in the hair at his nape, holding him closer to her breast, and when he sucked on her nipple, she gasped with pleasure, her whole body twisting against his. He trailed kisses along her flat stomach, his hands gliding ceaselessly up and down her sides and breasts and hips, and then he finally lifted his head.

Dazed with pleasure and wonder, Alexandra gazed into his scorching eyes, sensing instinctively the care he was taking with her, unaware of the practiced expertise he was using to make her body feel as if it were on fire beneath his hands and mouth.

All she knew was that she was bursting with love, and that she wanted—needed—to make him feel all the wondrous pleasure he was making her feel. And when Jordan slowly lowered his sensual lips to hers and whispered, "Kiss me, darling," it was all the invitation Alexandra needed.

Driven by pure instinct and the belief that what felt wonderful to her would surely feel wonderful to him also, Alexandra unknowingly turned the full force of his seductive skill on him. She kissed him with unrestrained ardor, curving her hand around his nape, kissing him exactly as he had kissed her, her tongue sliding along the crease between his lips, urging them to part and then driving inside in a kiss that made him gasp against her mouth.

The pressure of her mouth urged him back against the pillows as Alexandra leaned up on an elbow and then followed him down, brushing sweet, arousing kisses across his temple, eyes, and cheek while her hand slid downward to the mat of dark hair on his chest. She splayed her fingers wide, her fingertips sliding back and forth, grazing his nipples as she trailed her lips across his cheek and daringly traced the folds of his ear with her tongue. Beneath her palm, she felt the wild increase in the rapid pounding of his heart; encouraged, she slid her lips downward, following the path her hand had taken, raining kisses over the rippling muscles of his powerful chest until she finally reached his nipple. When she took it in her mouth, she heard the rasp of his sharply indrawn breath and felt his muscles leap reflexively.

His skin was like rough satin and Alexandra reveled in the taste and texture of it, loving the way his hands plunged into her hair as she continued to kiss and tease him with her mouth. But when she moved downward, sliding her lips along the hollow planes of his stomach, Jordan made a sound that was part laugh and part groan and abruptly hauled her upward, rolling her onto her back, leaning over her.

With passion raging through every pore of his body, Jordan had no specific idea how he had become the seduced, rather than the seducer. All he knew was that the enchanting girl he had taken to bed had suddenly become a gloriously exciting woman who was deliberately driving him half mad with desire.

Hungrily, he opened her mouth with his own while his hand glided down her hips and thighs, then shifted, covering the curly triangle between her legs. She stiffened at his intimate touch and clamped her legs together, wildly shaking her head.

With an effort that nearly sapped his strength, Jordan made his hand still and slowly lifted his head, gazing down at her. "Don't be afraid of me, darling," he said in a throbbing whisper, as his hand began to move, gently but relentlessly caressing her most sensitive place, his fingers probing her moist warmth, seeking entrance. "Trust me."

After a moment's hesitation, the rigidity went out of her limbs and Alexandra's thighs parted sweetly. From the moment he had begun, Jordan had expected, known, she would struggle and fight him when his caresses became this intimate. Instead, she was giving herself to him without reservation, holding nothing back, fighting down her own fears and trusting him not to harm her.

The surge of tenderness he felt for the innocent temptress with the melting eyes at that moment was almost more than he could contain. He stared down at her, feeling humbled by her sweet, selfless giving, and she closed her eyes, burying her heated face against his chest while his fingers toyed with her, probing gently to prepare her for him, her hands clasping the muscles of his upper arms.

With a combination of blazing desire and genuine dread at the knowledge he was going to have to hurt her, Jordan shifted on top of her. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he cradled her face between his hands, his throbbing shaft poised at the entrance to her body. "Alex," he said in an aching voice that sounded strangely shattered to his own ears.

Her long eyelashes fluttered open, and he could tell she already knew.

Her breath was coming in frightened, shallow little pants, but instead of closing her eyes, she kept them riveted to his as if seeking reassurance and comfort from the very man who was about to hurt her. Moving his hips slowly, Jordan penetrated her a fraction with each stroke, pushing slightly deeper into her tight warmth until he found the barrier that blocked further entrance, but no amount of gentle, normal pressure would break it.

His last hope that this would be painless and easy died in his breast. Lifting her hips to receive him, he withdrew almost all the way and covered her trembling lips with his own. "I'm sorry, darling," he whispered hoarsely against her mouth. Holding her imprisoned, he drove swiftly into her. Her body arched and her soft cry of pain slashed across his heart, but she never once tried to push him away. Instead she let him hold her in his arms, whispering soothing endearments to her.

Swallowing convulsively, Alexandra opened her tear-brightened eyes, amazed and relieved as the brief pain began to subside. Her husband's handsome face was dark with passion and harsh with regret, and she put her arms around him. "It wasn't as bad as that," she whispered.

The fact that she was trying to console him was more than Jordan could withstand. The cynicism and cold reserve that had surrounded him like an impenetrable wall for most of his twenty-seven years began to disintegrate completely, washed away in a tidal wave of selfless passion that raged through every pore of his body. With painstaking slowness, Jordan began to move within her, plunging gently, then retreating to plunge again, watching her lovely flushed face, as she began instinctively to move with him.

With her nails biting into the bunched muscles of his back, Alexandra strained toward him in trembling need, pressing herself willingly to the demanding, rhythmic thrusts of his hard body, while within her an uncontrollable inner excitement began to build, jarring her body with quick, piercing stabs of desire.

"Don't fight it, darling," Jordan whispered thickly, his shoulders and arms taut with the strain of holding back, his chest heaving with the force of each labored breath. Steadily, he began to increase the tempo of his driving, rhythmic strokes. "Let it happen."

Ecstasy exploded in Alexandra, spilling through her veins while spasms racked her body, making her cry out. The moment she did, Jordan tightened his arms around her and drove fiercely into her. His body erupted like a volcano, pouring his seed into her welcoming warmth with a force that made his entire body jerk again and again. Convulsions of pleasure were still racking him as he gently lifted his weight from her and moved onto his side, taking Alexandra with him, his body still joined with hers.

Alexandra surfaced slowly from the sweet, hot oblivion to which he had sent her, eventually becoming aware of where she was. As she lay in his protective embrace, her head nestled beneath his chin, she did not know it was possible to feel so loved. Even now, she could still feel the warmth of his intimate caresses and wildly exciting kisses.

Almost from the moment he had joined her in bed, she had realized instinctively that her husband had desired and needed her, but she hadn't quite understood what it was he was seeking from her. Now she knew. He had wanted that explosion of pure pleasure—and he had wanted her to feel it, too. Pride and joy seeped through her at the knowledge that she had been able to give him that. She had been able to make his powerful body tremble as he had made hers tremble, she had made him gasp with delight.

It did not occur to her to feel embarrassment over the wanton way she had returned his passion. Love meant giving everything and holding nothing back, as her grandfather had said. It meant entrusting your happiness to another, and, in return taking full responsibility for that person's happiness. She had done both tonight.

Her mind drifted to babies. She had never understood why couples sometimes got babies they didn't seem to want. No doubt they got them because they couldn't help going to bed and doing this glorious thing Jordan called "making love."

Jordan moved slightly, tipping his head down to tenderly gaze at his wife. In the candle glow, the purity of her face was striking. With her unbelievably long eyelashes resting like curly fans against her smooth, high cheeks, she looked fragile and innocent and incredibly pretty. He had intended to introduce her to passion; instead she had taught him selfless, uninhibited giving. She was innocence and ardor; devoid of guile; trusting and candid and sweet. A natural temptress.

A faint smile curved his lips as he finally recognized the fact that she had adroitly used his own technique at lovemaking to make love to him, but she had added something to it—something elusive and profoundly touching. Something that made him feel both proud and strangely humble; possessive and yet unworthy. And suddenly, very uneasy.

Wondering if she was already asleep, he touched his lips to her forehead and whispered her name, then he raised his hand, intending to brush her tousled curls off her forehead.

Her eyes opened, and what he saw in their glowing blue depths stilled his hand and made it tremble—he saw the same thing that had made his body tremble when she kissed and touched him:

All the love in the universe was shining in her eyes.

"Oh my God," he whispered hoarsely.

Hours later when he had made love to her for the second time, Jordan held her cradled in his arms, staring fixedly at the dying candles on the mantel, unable to banish the possessive jealousy he felt stirring to life within him. "Alexandra," he said more gruffly than he intended, "never believe a man who says 'trust me'—especially if you don't happen to have any clothes on at the time."

She opened her eyes and her smile was filled with amusement. "How many men do you expect to be talking to me while I have no clothes on, my lord?"

"None," he said sternly. "I was merely joking about that part." Unable to tell her bluntly not to trust him or any other man, Jordan said evasively, "It's foolish to trust people too much. You'll be hurt if you do."

Her smile sobered. "I would be hurting myself if I didn't. Don't you trust people?"

"Not very many and not completely."

Alexandra lifted her hand and brushed her fingertip against his warm, sensual lips. "If you don't trust," she told him with that combination of wisdom and naiveté that Jordan found so disarming, "you'll never be disappointed by someone. But you will also cheat yourself of the chance to ever be completely happy." Unable to stop touching him, Alexandra traced the curve of his hard jaw, unaware of the desire kindling in his eyes and sparking to life within her. "You are beautiful and gentle and wise and strong," she whispered, watching his eyes darken as her hand drifted down his throat to his chest. "But you need to learn to trust people, especially me. Without complete trust, love can't survive, and I love y—"

Jordan captured her lips in a devouring kiss that silenced her words and sent her spinning off into a warm sweet world, where nothing existed except the wild beauty of his lovemaking.