“I'm sorry,” she said softly.

“For what?” he asked, puzzled.

“I ruined your evening.” She swallowed hard at the admission.

“How?” he replied, clearly not understanding her.

Maybe, since he doesn't follow, it wasn't a problem? But she explained anyway “I'm such a rabbit. I have no courage. I can't even hold a normal conversation.”

“I understood,” his arm snaked behind her back, “and I'm not upset. Mother

should have known better. You hate to be the center of attention, don't you?”

“Yes.”

Christopher contemplated. “Is attention a threat? If someone notices you,

they might realize you've made some kind of mistake and tell your father?”

Is that why I don't like crowds? Because I don't know what they're going to do? “You may be right. I've never thought about it.”

He pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder. “But everyone was looking when you played. Why was that different?”

More questions. He wants very badly to understand. It's a pity I don't know

the answers well myself. She considered. “I've been playing for Father's friends forever. I'm used to it.”

“I see. Well,” he continued, returning to the point, “we don't have to have a

party. There's no great reason for it if you don't want one. But it's going to be important for you to work on telling people what you want. Don't hint quite so

subtly my dear. It's hard to understand.”

“Sorry.” Her shame increased.

“No, don't be sorry.” He caressed her cheek, wanting to soothe her. “It's not a

judgment, just a suggestion. One step towards your new life as the happy and confident Mrs. Christopher Bennett.”

She smiled ruefully. “That sounds good. Um, Christopher, do you think it's too late for me to have a bath when we get back?”

“No, it's not late. Why?” he asked.

“I'm stiffening. A hot bath helps tremendously.”

His arm around her tensed. “Certainly, you may.”

“Thank you.”

“In the meanwhile, love, are you cold? Be honest.”

“Yes.” As though her teeth weren't chattering audibly in the frigid interior of

the cab.

“Then come over here and let me warm you.”

She scooted against his side and he embraced her, his arms resting lightly on

her back. “Does this hurt?”

She considered the sensation of pressure against bruises and scars. “No.”

“Truly?” He looked deep into her face as though testing her honesty.

“Truly. It's fine.”

“Good.” His gaze fell to her lips. “Would you like a kiss?”

“Yes, please,” she agreed eagerly.

He lowered his mouth to hers, touching her lips with the tip of his tongue and

asking her to open. She did, and he treated her to a long round of passionate

loving inside her mouth.

The cab pulled to a stop outside the hotel and Christopher reluctantly

released his wife's lips, paid the fare, and escorted her back to his rooms, ringing for a bath.

Soon a portable tub filled with steaming water and Epsom salt filled up

nearly all the available space in the sitting room, awaiting Katerina's sore body.

All the furniture had been shoved into the corners to make room for the supposedly portable slipper bath, and the curl of lilac-scented steam coiled itself

around her, making her shiver. She could hardly wait, but her borrowed dress had complicated fastenings, and she needed another set of hands to open them.

Christopher, naturally, looked delighted at the thought of undressing her again.

“You know,” he told her, looking at the tub, “I would love to share a bath with you.”

She considered the possibilities, and her cheeks began to burn. “Is that

done?”

“Certainly, if you want,” he replied, unflustered by the intimate thing he was