When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(32)

Lysette glanced at him with a half smile. With relief, she saw that his tension had faded, and his face was relaxed and smooth.

“Please do,” she invited, turning her full attention to the cake. “I don’t think this knife will be sufficient— do you happen to have a hatchet?”

He chuckled. “It is quite an impressive cake, isn’t it?” His large hand closed over hers, and he pulled her back lightly against his chest. The guests chuckled and offered encouragement as Max helped his bride cut several slices, his hand engulfing hers as he guided the knife. Lysette was intensely aware of the warmth between their bodies and the way his breath touched her neck whenever he leaned forward.

“You’re looking down the front of my dress, aren’t you?” she murmured, setting down the frosting-coated knife.

“Certainly not. I am helping you with the cake.”

Amusement rose in her chest. “Liar.”

She felt him smile against her hair. “If you are going to deprive me of a wedding night, you shouldn’t begrudge me a little peek at your br**sts. And if you didn’t want me to look at them, you shouldn’t have worn such a low-cut gown.”

“I chose a low-cut gown because I hoped to divert everyone’s attention from my hair,” she said dryly. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have worked— they’re all talking about my hair anyway.”

Max touched her chin with his fingertips and nudged her face toward him. While everyone watched, he fingered one of the tiny springing curls that had erupted from the pinned-up mass of her rebellious red hair. The humidity had made it more frizzy than usual, until it appeared as if a fiery halo surrounded her coiffure. “Your hair is one of the things I find most beautiful about you.” Leaning closer, he let his mouth drift to the tender edge of her ear. “But even so,” he whispered, “I still prefer looking at your br**sts.”

She laughed and pushed at him. Catching her hand, Max kissed the tip of her thumb, where a patch of frosting had collected. She suppressed a gasp as she felt his tongue remove the dab of sweetness.

“You are wicked,” she said, knowing that her blush contrasted violently with her hair.

“Let me visit you tonight. I’ll show you how wicked I can be.”

“No,” she said with a provocative smile. “I am going to hold you to our agreement. I need more time.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” He flashed her a brief grin and released her hand.

Eventually the dancing began, signaling the time when the bride was to be led to the bedchamber to wait for the “ordeal” yet to come. Traditionally the bride’s mother helped her to change into her nightgown, and then explained what would happen when the bridegroom arrived to claim his conjugal rights. Irérée appeared and gave Lysette a motherly smile. “I will take you upstairs now, Lysette. Since your own mother is not here, I will be honored to accompany you to your room.”

Max reached Lysette at the same time that Irénée did. His fingers wrapped around Lysette’s as he spoke to his mother. “There is no need for you to leave the guests, Maman.”

Irénée frowned at her son. “But I must take Lysette upstairs and help her change… Max, you know very well that you must wait down here. It is the tradition.”

“I intend to break with tradition tonight,” he said.

Lysette glanced at him with a perplexed frown but remained silent.

Irénée forced a social smile to her lips, mindful of the guests’ attention on them. “Mon fils, what will all these people think if you disappear with Lysette like that?”

“They’ll think whatever they wish. They always do.”

“Maximilien,” Irénée persisted, “I will put this to you as plainly as possible. Lysette has not yet been prepared for what is to happen tonight. I have not explained anything to her.”

Max smiled faintly. “If Lysette has questions, I will be happy to provide the answers. Let us go, Maman.”

“Maximilien, this is indecent!”

Ignoring his mother’s protest, Max began to lead Lysette from the drawing room. As Irénée had warned, tongues wagged and eyes bulged. A bride and groom departing from the wedding party together was in extremely bad taste, since all the guests were aware of where the couple was headed and what would soon happen between them.

Alexandre stopped them at the door, taking hold of Lysette’s shoulders and kissing her heartily on each cheek. His dark eyes twinkled at her. “You are a most welcome addition to the family, little sister. Max should count himself fortunate that I did not meet you first.”

Lysette laughed at his outrageous charm, while Max pulled her away from his brother’s grasp with a jealous frown. He retained her hand in his as they went upstairs. Neither of them spoke until they reached the master bedroom.

“Now,” Lysette said with a quizzical smile, “tell me why you would not let your mother accompany me upstairs. I was quite looking forward to hearing her explanation of what happens between husbands and wives in bed.”

Max closed the door and untied his starched white cravat. “That’s what I was afraid of. Regardless of whether or not you allow me to make love to you, doucette, I don’t want you to be misinformed about the marital relationship by my mother.”