Gabriel reached up and put his hand over her mouth. Tears were streaming down her face. He kept his voice soothing when he said, "Your brother's an honorable man."

She nodded. He removed his hand from her mouth, then gently tugged her down next to him. "Yes, Nicholas is an honorable man," she whispered.

The side of her face rested on his shoulder. He could feel her tears as they dropped on his skin.

"Nicholas wouldn't trick me."

"I didn't think he would." She sounded bewildered.

A long minute passed while he waited for her to tell him what was bothering her.

"Perhaps he forgot to tell you… or thought he had."

"What did he forget to tell me?"

"I cannot have children."

He waited for her to continue. "And?" he asked when she didn't say another word.

She'd been holding her breath, waiting for his reaction. She thought he'd be furious. He didn't appear to be, however. He was casually stroking her arm. An angry man wouldn't caress. He would strike.

Johanna decided he didn't understand. "I'm barren," she whispered. "I thought Nicholas told you. If you want the marriage annulled, I'm sure that Father MacKechnie will see to the petition."

"Nicholas did tell me, Johanna."

She bolted up in the bed again. "He told you?" She looked thoroughly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm here because I'm your husband and this is our wedding night It's a usual occurrence to share the bed."

"Do you mean you wish to sleep here tonight?"

"Damned right I mean to," he answered.

She looked incredulous now. "And every other night," he announced.

"Why?"

"Because I'm your husband," he explained.

He pulled her down next to him again, rolled to his side, and leaned over her. He gently brushed the hair away from the side of her face.

His touch was gentle and soothing. "Are you here just to sleep, m'lord?"

"No."

"Then you wish to…"

"Yes," he said, irritated by how horrified she looked now.

"Why?"

She really didn't understand. His own observation soothed his pride, but he couldn't control his exasperation with her. "Johanna, weren't you married for three years?"

She was trying not to stare into his eyes. It was a difficult task. They really were quite beautiful. The color was the purest of gray. He had nice high cheekbones, too, and a straight nose. He really was a handsome devil, and even though she tried not to care, her heartbeat reacted to his nearness. It was racing now. His scent was appealing, too. He smelled clean, male. His hair was damp. Gabriel had had a bath before coming to bed.

She shouldn't have thought that was nice. She did, though. She really should get hold of her undisciplined thoughts. What he looked like or how he smelled shouldn't matter.

"Are you going to answer me before daylight?"

She remembered his question. "I was married three years."

"Then how can you ask me if I want to sleep with you?"

His confusion didn't make any sense to her. "For what purpose? I can't have your children."

"You've mentioned that," he snapped. "There's another reason I want to bed you."

"What other reason?" she asked suspiciously.

"There's pleasure in the marriage act. Have you never experienced it before?"

"I don't know about pleasure, m'lord, but I'm most familiar with disappointment."

"Do you think I'll be disappointed, or do you believe you will be?"

"Both of us will be disappointed," she said. "Then you'll become angry. It's really for the better if you leave me alone."

He wasn't about to agree to that suggestion. She acted as though she had everything all figured out. He didn't need to ask where she'd gotten her opinions. It was apparent to him she'd been sorely mistreated by her first husband. She was so damned innocent and vulnerable. MacBain thought it a pity Raulf was dead. He would have liked to kill him.

He couldn't change the past for her, however. All he could do was concentrate on the present and their future together. He leaned down and kissed her brow. He was pleased to see she didn't flinch or try to turn away.

"Tonight is the first time for you-"

He was going to explain that it would be their first time together and that it would be a new beginning for both of them, but Johanna interrupted. "I'm not a virgin, m'lord. Raulf came to my bed many times during our first year as man and wife."

That statement caught his curiosity. He leaned back to look at her. "And after the first year?"

"He went to other women. He was most disappointed in me. Aren't there any women you could go to?"

She sounded enthusiastic over the possibility. He didn't know if he should be insulted or amused. Most wives didn't wish to share their husbands. Johanna looked eager enough to run outside and recruit a mistress for him. Hell, she'd probably give up her side of the bed, too.

"I don't want any other women."

"Why not?"

She had the gall to look disgruntled. He was having difficulty believing this bizarre conversation. He grinned and shook his head. "I want you," he insisted.

She let out a sigh. "I suppose it's your right."

"Yes, it is."

He pulled the covers away. She jerked them back in place. "Just one moment please," she said. "I would like to ask you an important question before you begin."

He frowned over her request. She turned her gaze to his chin so he wouldn't see how frightened she was becoming as she waited for his agreement or his denial.

"What is your question?"

"I would like to know what will happen when you're disappointed." She dared a quick look up into his eyes, then hastily added, "I would like to prepare myself."

"I won't be disappointed."

She didn't look as though she believed him.

"But when you are?" she persisted.

He held onto his patience. "Then I will have no one to blame but myself."

She stared at him a long minute before letting go of her death grip on the covers. While he watched, she folded her hands together on top of her stomach and closed her eyes. The look of resignation on her face made him shake his head in frustration.

It was inevitable, he supposed. Gabriel was going to get his way, and she was intelligent enough to know it.

She wasn't in a complete panic. She remembered the pain involved in the mating act; and although she certainly wasn't looking forward to the god-awful discomfort, it wouldn't be unbearable. It wouldn't kill her. She had gotten through the ordeal before, she reminded herself; she could get through it again. She would survive.

"All right, m'lord. I'm ready."

Lord, she was an exasperating woman. "Nay, Johanna," he countered in a low, gruff whisper.

He reached for the ribbon holding her gown in place and pulled the string free. "You aren't ready yet, but you will be. 'Tis my duty to make you want me, and I won't take you until you do."

She didn't show any outward reaction to his promise. God's truth, she looked as though she'd just been placed inside a wooden box. The only thing missing was a flower clutched between her rigid fingers, MacBain decided. Then he'd know for certain she was dead and about to be put in the ground.

He decided he was going to have to change his approach. His bride was alarmingly pale and as tense as the string on his bow right now. She was on guard against him. That fact didn't bother him overly much, for he understood her reasons, even if she didn't. He was going to have to wait until she had calmed down just a little. Then he would begin his gentle attack. His strategy wasn't complex. He was simply going to overwhelm her. Hopefully she wouldn't realize what was happening to her until it was too late. Her shields would be down; and once passion ignited, there wouldn't be much room in her mind for fear.

He'd already learned his bride was a gentle lady. The expression on her face when she'd been talking to his son before the wedding told him she was a compassionate, caring woman. He didn't know if she had a passionate nature, however, but he was determined to find out before either one of them left the bed.

MacBain leaned down, kissed her brow, and then rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Long minutes passed before she realized he was actually going to sleep. She turned to stare at him. Why had she been given this reprieve?

"Have I already disappointed you, m'lord?"

"No."

She continued to watch him, waiting for further explanation. He didn't say another word to appease her curiosity.

Not understanding his motives made her worry all the more. "What would you like me to do?" she asked.

"Take your shift off."

"And then?"

"Go to sleep. I won't touch you tonight."

His eyes were closed, and he, therefore, didn't see the change in her expression. He heard her sigh though, speculated it was due to relief, and couldn't help but become a little irritated with the woman. Hell, it was going to be a long, long night before he found satisfaction.

She couldn't make any sense out of his order. If he was going to leave her alone, why did he care if she wore a nightgown or not? Perhaps the command was just his way of saving face, she thought to herself. She wasn't about to argue with him, not now, not after she'd been given this wonderful gift.

Since his eyes were closed, she didn't have to concern herself with modesty. She got out of the bed, took her gown off, folded it neatly, then walked around to the other side of the bed to put the garment on the chair next to it His plaid was on the floor. She picked it up, folded it, and put it on top of her nightgown.