Tristan advanced so quickly Diana had to step back and ran into the wall.

He pulled her close. “You shan’t have time for a lover. I intend to keep you quite busy.”

His mouth was on hers, his kiss possessive and hard. Not even a moan could have escaped her. He used her fully, with a husband’s right, and pressed his lean hips into hers, making certain she knew his arousal, her duty to satisfy him for as long as he desired.

She yielded. Not from fear but the feelings he stirred. She didn’t want to wound him, nor did she want him to hurt her.

At last, he seemed to understand. His kiss grew tender and exploring, then finally torrid. Their tongues battled to see which one would fill the other’s mouth. She won a few times and so did he, the bawdy sounds they made proving satisfaction.

When they’d finished, he looked sheepish.

Not knowing what to say, she stroked his cheek, careful not to touch the scratches she’d given him.

Smiling, he captured her hand, led her down the hall past numerous rooms, and stopped at the last. He pushed the door open and escorted her inside.

Polished white marble covered the floor, the same as in the hall, the ceilings high, windows large, facing trees and a clearing to show the distant water. It sparkled blue-green, matching the silk sheets on the large mahogany bed.

Never had she witnessed anything as imposing or as inviting. Given what had transpired between her and Tristan in the hall, she had no doubt what would soon happen in here. Their bedchamber for all time.