disrespectful cotton weaver will pay for this insult.”

CHAPTER 8

K aterina woke suddenly as the late afternoon sun began slanting

through the window across her face. She felt warm and

comfortable… and nude; completely naked in bed with her astonishing husband.

She took a moment to admire his handsomeness: his dark brown hair, nearly as

dark as hers, his finely chiseled face, almost angelic in its symmetrical proportions, his flexible lips, which felt so wonderful pressed against hers, his beautiful silver eyes, now closed in slumber, long lashes resting on his cheeks.

He's glorious, and he's mine; my savior, my lover, my husband. He sacrificedhimself for me.

His eyes opened, showing their lovely, misty color, and the corners crinkled

as he smiled at her.

She smiled back shyly.

“Did you rest well, sweet girl?” he asked.

She smiled a bit wider. “Yes. I feel very good. You?”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Excellent. Are you sore?”

“Where?” she asked, her cheeks heating as various interpretations flitted

through her mind.

“Everywhere.”

Katerina took stock of herself. “I think my back is a little better.”

He gave a brief nod. “Good. Your belly?”

She pressed against the bruises. “It hurts, but not as much as yesterday.”

“And here?” His fingers trailed through the hair at the apex of her thighs.

Her face heated. “Sore. Quite sore.”

His boyish half-grin turned regretful. “Not surprising. You were rather hard

to deflower.”

Katerina studied the eyelet pattern of the bedspread. “Sorry.”

He lifted her face with one finger under her chin. “It's the way you were made, love. I just hated hurting you.”

Every time he opens his mouth, he says something even sweeter. “I didn't mind, honestly. I have a pretty high tolerance. It wasn't the worst thing I've felt.”

“I can imagine,” he replied grimly. “And now, are you hungry?”

At the mention of food, her stomach gurgled loudly. “Yes, I am. Famished actually.”

“Me too. I have an idea. Shall we see if my parents would be interested in having us for dinner?”

Parents? Oh, dear. What will Julia think about all this? “Will they be upset?”

“About what?”

“That we married without telling them,” Katerina explained.

Christopher shook his head. “I doubt it. Mother wanted us together. She

understood the urgency. She'll explain it to father. All will be well, love. You're a Bennett now.”

Katerina smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

“Then get dressed. You look lovely, but it's rather much for going visiting.”

She laughed, startled to notice it felt a bit rusty. It had been so long since she'd been comfortable enough to laugh . Scrambling stiffly from the bed, she lifted her chemise and examined the stained fabric with a frown. “This is disgusting.”

“Yes,” he agreed, grimacing at the sight of it.

'What do I do? I'm sadly lacking in undergarments. In everything really.”

“What about at… your father's house?” Christopher asked.

“My entire wardrobe is there, but I don't fancy going after it. I'll go naked before I set foot in that pit of hell again. Besides, after you dismissed him, he probably did something rash… like burn the lot.”

Christopher rolled his eyes heavenward. “No doubt. Just a moment, let me

see if the housekeeper can find you something to borrow. Here.” He retrieved a shirt from the wardrobe and tossed it to her. “Cover yourself so you can meet her.”

She slid the shirt around her slender body. As she was tall for a woman, it fluttered around the middle of her thighs, but it was enough, barely, for decency.

Christopher took her hand and led her out of the bed-chamber and into the front

room, where he summoned his housekeeper.

Mrs. Bristol flitted around the room, scowling at the slovenly mess

Christopher had made on and around the coffee table. “Your man should be fired.”