Page 29 of Beau

“This is lovely," she murmured. She was half lying between his powerful thighs and loved the feel of his masculine chest against her back. They were both wearing matching black silk robes, part of the Christmas present she had bought.

“Hmm.” He felt drunk on contentment and love and the sumptuous meal had not quite digested. As soon as that happened, he had every intention of making love to her.

“Our second Christmas together.” She turned her head to look at him. “Remember last year?”

“My brain is not addled.” He grinned when she pouted. “How could I forget? You wanted to be the perfect wife and were determined to get it right. You were exhausting.”

“I was a new wife, and I was very nervous. We had just gotten married not quite a month ago and that was my first time playing hostess for you and your dad. I was scared to death.”

“You gave the caterers hell.”

She grimaced in remembrance. “They threatened to quit, and I think they would have, if it was not for you and your dad.”

He kissed the top of her head. “We have been using them for years.”

She placed her hands over his where he had wrapped them around her waist.

“You told me that I did not have to do anything.”

“But as usual, you did not listen.”

“The role of hostess was new to me," she protested.

“And I reminded you that all you had to do was just show up.”

“I wanted to do more.”

Bending his head, he kissed her on the lips. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“All my doubts and fears came tumbling back and I started wondering if I had made a mistake.”

His expression turned bleak as he recalled the argument. He had gone upstairs to get dressed and found her curled up on the bed, her cheeks stained with tears. Fearing that she was ill, he rushed over and demanded to know what was wrong.

“I don’t belong here," she told him tearfully.

For a minute, he had been taken aback and had no idea where that comment was coming from.

“Huh?”

“This was a mistake. Us, this marriage. I cannot do this.”

He had felt fear like never before. The look on her face had frightened him and he wondered frantically if she was going to leave him. He had gone on the defensive.

“You just want to quit? We have been married, what? A month and you want to call an end to it? Why?”

“I can’t do this.”

“It would help if I knew what the hell it is you cannot do.”

“Stop shouting.”

“I am not shouting!” He had calmed down with difficulty. “What’s going on?”

“I got on the caterers’ nerves. They hate me.”

“You are the woman of the house. They work for us.”

“They told me that they have been doing this for years and I should stay out of the way.”