"Aye, my lady," Browne replied. "A good worker your Enit is, we already know. She has prepared your chamber for you and earlier unpacked your possessions that she and Lady Katherine brought from Haven."
For a moment Rhonwyn was tempted to say she wanted nothing from Haven, but she swallowed back the urge. She wasn't a wealthy woman, nor was her husband a rich man. She needed everything she had, and her pride would have to accept that fact.
"Come," Rafe said softly to her. "I will take you to our chamber, wife." His fingers closed about her arm.
"Our chamber?"
" ‘Tis a small house," he murmured low. "The custom here is that the master and the mistress share a bed. Tis not like my cousin's fine castle where the lady has her own apartments and the lord his." He half dragged her up the narrow staircase and into the solar. "Go down to the hall, girl," he told Enit, who scurried out at his command. "Now, wife, we will talk," Rafe de Beaulieu said.
Rhonwyn sat herself in a high-backed oak chair by the fire. "What shall we talk about, my lord?" she asked him sweetly.
"You realize that I positively lust after you, Rhonwyn, don't you? I have said it before," he remarked frankly as he stood before her.
"Aye," she managed to respond, looking directly up at him. Why did he have to be so damned handsome, she thought, admitting to herself that she could feel her own lust being engaged. It had been almost a year since she had lain in a man's arms, felt a man's weight on her, sighed with pleasure at a lover's eager entrance into her body.
He smiled, and she flushed, knowing he somehow read her randy thoughts. "Do you want me as much as I want you?" he asked her.
"I do not want you at all," she snapped, knowing it was a lie and knowing that he knew it was a lie.
"I have never forced a woman, Rhonwyn," he told her seriously. "I will not force you. You are my wife. Between us there will be respect and consideration until that time you wish us to enter into a true spousal state. We will, of course, share the bed in our chamber, for I am certain you do not wish the servants to know of our agreement. It would distress them to learn we were not doing all we could to make an heir for Ardley."
"You don't want me?" She was astounded.
"Nay, wife, as I have already said, I want you very much, but I will have no woman who does not want me," Rafe replied.
"That is ridiculous!"
"Do you enjoy being forced, then?" he demanded, his look leering. He tipped her face up to his.
Pulling away, Rhonwyn cried, "Nay! But you are my husband, and you have certain rights whether I will or no. Edward certainly never hesitated to claim his prerogatives."
"Edward was a fool who might have discovered the real reason for your fears had he not been so busy with his claims," Rafe said bluntly. "Your caliph obviously took the time to learn what it was that frightened you, Rhonwyn. Will you tell me?"
"Rashid al Ahmet said that the mind was a dangerous thing," Rhonwyn began. "He was patient and clever. Together we discovered that I hid a secret within the darkest recesses of my soul. Once, when I was a small girl and my brother barely out of infancy, a richly clad stranger came to our cottage and violated my mam. She never told ap Gruffydd and warned me not to, either. Glynn was too young to remember the incident. My mam told me I should never let a man do to me what the stranger had done to her. It somehow left the impression on my child's mind that I should not couple with a man. Once I was able to remember what had happened, my fears dissolved."
"Ah," Rafe said, and then he grinned at her. "And being fearless, wife, you went on to taste and experience all the pleasures of the flesh, did you not? I hope the caliph taught you well, for I am a man with a prodigious appetite for carnal delights."
"But you will not force me," Rhonwyn taunted him. "You have said it yourself, my lord, that until I desire you, you will not have me." Her fingers reached up and caressed his cheek, sliding down the curve of his visage and trailing across his lips.
He caught her hand and shoved her fingers into his mouth, sucking upon them vigorously, his eyes meeting hers in a silent challenge.
"You said you would not force me," she quickly reminded him.
He licked her fingers dry and kissed the tips of the digits before releasing them. "I said, lady, that I should not force you. I did not say I should not tease you, fondle you, caress you, or kiss you. I said I would not force you."
"Is what you have said not coercion?" she demanded. Her fingers were tingling.
"You are proud, Rhonwyn, and you are a poor liar. You lust for me every bit as much as I lust after you, but you refuse to admit to it." Yanking her up, his arms closed about her. Their lips were dangerously close. "Tell me now that you do not want me!"
"I do not want you!" she cried.
"Liar!" he mocked her, and then he kissed her lips. They trembled beneath his, soft and yielding despite her protest. "Tell me you do not want me," he said once more.
"Bastard!" she hissed at him fiercely.
"Say the words, Rhonwyn," he pressed her.
"But you don't believe me," she half sobbed. Her heart was pounding wildly. Her legs felt like straw.
"Nay, wife, 1 don't. Edward was foisted upon you, as was your caliph. I am the first, the only man, whom you have ever truly desired with ever fiber of your being, Rhonwyn. Why do you deny so desperately what is so plain to me?" His mouth brushed hers again. "So proud. So fierce. So damnably sweet," he crooned low to her. "Do not fight it, lovely, I beg of you!"
She struggled against his grip. "You claim I am proud," she cried. "Your pride is far worse than mine, Rafe de Beaulieu. Let me be! You have promised not to force me, and I will not have you! Can you not understand me?"
He kissed her brow. "You will come to me sooner than later, wife," he told her as his grip loosened suddenly, and she almost fell.
Recovering, she stood facing him, her cheeks pink, her green eyes wide. "What makes you think I want you?" she demanded.
"I see it in your emerald eyes," he told her. "You trembled in my arms, and I felt the little nipples of your breasts hardening against my chest. Your mouth was sweet and did not deny me, Rhonwyn."
"I cannot remain here," she said desperately. "You are a devil, Rafe de Beaulieu! You confuse me with your wicked tongue!"
"Oh, my darling," he said, laughing, "you haven't begun to know the impact of my wicked tongue upon you, but you soon will."
She turned away from him. He was right, damn him! For the first time in her life she actually desired a man. She had almost desired Edward, and the caliph's passion had opened her eyes to the pleasures that could exist between a man and a woman, but she had never truly wanted a man as she wanted this one. But it was wrong! To give in to his wicked cajolery before they knew more about one another was not right. This was the man she would be married to until death. She wanted his respect, and if she was to have it, she must not yield to his taunts like some common whore of the streets. Drawing a deep breath, Rhonwyn turned herself about and looked directly at her husband.
"Aye, I do desire you," she admitted, "but I am not being coy when I ask you for a bit of time so we may know one another better. Because I have lived in a harem does not make me a loose woman, Rafe. Do you understand how I feel?"
He sighed. "Aye," he told her, "I do, but waiting will not make me want you any less, lovey."
Rhonwyn laughed. "1 don't want you to desire me less, husband," she said. "I just want to know the man I am wed to better than I knew the last one. Perhaps we can learn to love one another in the romantic sense, but I seek your respect as well. Neither of us are children, Rafe, and we have both known passion. There is little that can surprise us, my lord, so let us be patient for now."