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insincere and not wanting him to see as much. He came to stand at the rail beside her.
    Urbanus was taller than she was and not unattractive—at a distance. He was well-proportioned, but through the sheer white chemise, she could see that he wasn’t muscled. He wasn’t fat, not yet, but he was soft.
    They wouldn’t be married long, Gemma reminded herself, much less grow old together.
    All she needed from him was the Seed.
    She could still smell it, but oddly enough it wasn’t stronger with his proximity. It had actually been more powerful in the chamber, but maybe he had spent time there, preparing the room for her.
    Gemma had to admit that was unlikely.
    Maybe the furniture had come from his own chambers.
    Watch his hands.
    Gemma considered Urbanus’ hands and found nothing remarkable about them or their pose. They were a bit paler than she might have expected, as if he spent a lot of time inside. They were also unscarred. Undoubtedly he avoided the joust and other sports that proved a man’s valor—in favor of what? Gemma didn’t know. There was a signet ring upon his right hand and the wedding band now on his left. There was a little stain beneath the nail of his index finger, perhaps from the ink from signing the registry.
    Maybe her so-called friend gave bad advice. She couldn’t see anything worthy of note about her husband’s hands.
    She tried to sound welcoming, but guessed she would sound overly formal. “There is no need for flattery, Urbanus. We are married now and have exchanged our vows before thousands of witnesses.” She thought she should warn him early, in case he liked virgins. “Even when I was a maiden, I knew what a groom was owed on a wedding night.”
    He grimaced as if to tease her. “Gemma, Gemma! Are we not both owed pleasure in the marital bed?” He stepped closer and put his arm around her waist. Gemma fought her urge to pull away. “Isn’t that the point of the lessons we endure? To ensure that we can provide pleasure to our spouse on this night of nights?”
    Had Urbanus been compelled to take formal lessons in copulation? Gemma bit back a smile. And she hadn’t endured her nights with Farquon. She’d quite enjoyed them.
    She dropped her gaze, letting him think she was shy. Her only pleasure would come from his early demise.
    Urbanus dropped his voice low. “I know our match was arranged and the terms negotiated, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be a little romance between us.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips, his eyes gleaming as he watched her. Felice’s purr sounded a little more like a growl, but Urbanus ignored the creature.
    His hand felt fleshy and cold, and Gemma barely kept from pulling her hand away. Even the Seed wasn’t helping. She had to be sure Urbanus didn’t have any suspicions! She deliberately thought of Farquon and his great thick…
    Urbanus bent and pressed a kiss against her palm. His lips were cold, too, and she fought a shiver. Gemma thought she felt a minute prick, then he folded her fingers over the spot he had touched with his lips. He held her hand captive in his left hand then, his right moving out of sight.
    Had something happened? That warning resonated in Gemma’s thoughts, even as a strange warmth surged through her. It seemed to emanate from the point Urbanus’ lips had touched, which made little sense to Gemma. It made even less sense how she felt less resistant to the notion of their coupling.
    She even felt more amorous.
    Farquon seemed suddenly inadequate in comparison to her lord husband.
    Gemma blinked. What had just happened?
    Urbanus was watching her closely, more closely than she might have expected. Could he read her thoughts? No, no, it was Troy who was a MindBender. Urbanus was simply a royal prince.
    Simply? The echo of doubt was dismissed so quickly that she might not have had it.
    Gemma was a dragon shifter. The beast within stirred, and her passion surged. How strange that a kiss from Urbanus should