Jessica was not so sheltered that she knew nothing of how the world operated. She was no saint – a fact that her mother complained of often. And her fiery spirit was enough to help her face numerous perils. She welcomed adventures and feared little.
But even her wild manner wasn't enough to keep her from dreading her wedding night. She was a virgin, she admitted bluntly to herself, and Angelo was not. He had bedded so many women for both pleasure and professional gain before their betrothal that she felt uncharacteristically intimidated.
The wedding itself had been a blissful event. No expense was spared on behalf of the Albert family for the young heiress beloved by her village. All the townsfolk were there to give their well-wishes, as were most of the residents of Port Prospect, the harbor that the Albert family sponsored. Jessica could even say that she was the only woman in the world to have both a princess and a pirate as her bridesmaids, and a prince and an ex-thief as the groomsmen. Princess Medea and her knight in shining armor, accompanied by Yangus and his sketchy but not all bad lady friend, Red, had all travelled to Alexandria for the blessed event and stood with them as they made their vows. A few jokes were pulled, as was their style, but mostly the emotions ran so high that there was nary a dry eye in the chapel. The party afterward had been sensational, lasting late into the night until most everyone was too drunk to go home without an escort.
She tried to prepare herself for Angelo's arrival; he was off tending to the last of the servants and caterers, tipping them for their hard work. She was alone, for the moment, in her room. A larger bed had replaced her childhood bed, and the few belongings Angelo kept had already been moved in.
She was surprised they had waited this long. Angelo clearly wasn't the traditional type, and she was no angel herself. But she had kept herself so distant from him for most of their peculiar relationship that when the lines began to blur, she found herself clinging to this one last barrier between them. He had broached the subject many times, but had never pressured her. He was a cad, yes, but also a gentleman in his own strange way, and he loved her enough to let her decided when she was ready.
Jessica couldn't relax, waiting impatiently and anxiously for her new husband to return. She tried several times to rearrange herself on the bed, to make herself optimally appealing, but came up unsatisfied every time. She had just collapsed onto her back with a groan of frustration, declaring defeat, when Angelo opened the door and slipped inside.
He grinned down at her, making her feel elated and uncomfortable simultaneously. "You're as exquisite as a goddess. And as disheveled as a harried busboy."
She glared at him, then moaned and covered her face in humiliation.
"Now, now," he soothed, sitting beside her on the mattress. "There's no need to hide. I've waited too long for this. I need you, my wife."
He gently removed her hands from her face and brushed her scorching hair out of her eyes.
"You're timid tonight. Tell me," he insisted, reading her like a book.
She frowned, then rested against his strong but slender physique. "You're my first. And I'm…" She couldn't finish her statement. She read his expression, sensing he was about to speak, and immediately assumed he would make some sarcastic remark about her ridiculous insecurities. Which was why she was surprised by what he said next.
"You are my first. Perhaps not in the classic sense, but certainly in the ways that matter. I have laid with other women, perhaps. But I have loved no one but you. I have not made, nor will I ever make love with anyone but you. I have taken pleasure and given pleasure. But with you, I will give you my soul, my heart, and take yours in return. I will please you until you cannot bear any more pleasure, and so you will please me. You will be my first just as much as I will be yours. And tonight will be a night of wondrous awe, not one of fear or shame. I love you, Jessica, my wife. Tonight, I will show you just how much."
He reached down to unclasp the button of her bridal lingerie. And in a stroke of boldness, she began to unbutton his lavish wedding suit. She kissed him in a way she hadn't kissed him before. Now, she wasn't the angry girl he had met so many months ago, bent on revenge borne out of her overwhelming grief. She wasn't the bitter, distant young women who kept him at bay with a barrage of snide remarks. Nor was she the scared new bride afraid that she wouldn't measure up, afraid of being just another notch in this man's bedpost. She was a wife, his wife, and tonight she would rejoice in all the freedom, ecstasy, and empowerment that bestowed upon her.
"Then you'd better brace yourself," she taunted, tossing her brilliant red curls over her shoulder and winking one of her big brown eyes at him. "It seems I have a lot of lost time to make up for."