The Faerie's Honeymoon by Emma Holly

nakedness,” he burst out.
    Confessing this left him breathing harder and her confused. “What do you mean?”
    “We don’t expose our wings except to the people we’re closest to, not even in Faerie. To be without clothes is nothing. To unfurl our wings is the same as baring our souls.”
    “Oh,” Belle said stupidly, her mind racing to put the pieces she had together. “Then when you dove after me with them fully out ...”
    “I didn’t mind that. I needed to extend them so I could manage my power better. All that mattered was that I save you.” His brow furrowed, and he knuckled it. “Okay, I minded a little when the EMT petted them, but he was trying to calm me so I forgave him.”
    Belle laughed in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. He totally was a prince sometimes.
    “What?” he asked. “Why is that funny?”
    “Um,” she said. “Maybe it’s better you don’t know.” She trailed her fingers down his cheek until some of the tension left its muscles. “I’m your beloved, right?”
    “Yes,” he said warily.
    “That means I’m one of the people you’re closest to.”
    “Yes, but -”
    Belle laid two fingers across his lips. “No ‘buts.’ You love me, and I love you. You can be ‘naked’ with me, just like I am with you.”
    Duvall swallowed. “What if you don’t think my soul is beautiful?”
    Her eyes filled with tears when his did.
    “Everyone wonders that,” she said huskily, “whether they have wings to embody their soul or not. Yours is beautiful to me because it’s yours, and trust me when I say I’ve seen it already. I fell in love with it and you. You never have to worry about not being beautiful to me.”
    One diamond droplet trickled over his lower lid, leaving a tiny trail of sparkles as it rolled down his cheek. He rubbed it away and looked straight at her. “I know I’m arrogant.”
    “Nonetheless,” she said.
    “And entitled.”
    “Doesn’t change my opinion. I have flaws of my own, in case you’ve forgotten.”
    He smiled. “It’s true you’re stubborn about having your way sometimes, but you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
    He meant this as no other man could have. Touched and amused, Belle cupped his face and kissed him.
    The kiss was barely getting good before he drew back.
    “You should rest,” he said, his gaze evading hers.
    It took a second for her to realize what he was doing. “Oh no you don’t. You healed me up just fine. I only let you carry me from the car because it was comforting.”
    Her husband expelled a long-suffering sigh. “You really want me to do this now?”
    “Yes, I do. Don’t you know the best thing after falling off a horse is to get back on?”
    “I didn’t fall off a horse. You fell five stories.”
    “Which has nothing to do with why you’re feeling self-conscious.”
    “Fine,” he huffed, rising to his feet. He shed his dinner jacket and tossed it onto a chair Marie Antoinette would have felt at home on. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”
    Belle caught his hand before he could accomplish his escape. “Do it here. In front of me. I’ll make it easier any way I can.”
    Duvall’s mouth twisted. “I don’t suppose blindfolding you again is an option.”
    Belle grinned, shook her head, then thought of something that might help. “I’ll take my clothes off, okay? You can hang onto everything but your shirt. If you like, I’ll give you a massage to relax you.”
    “Where would you massage me?” he asked sulkily, not ready to give in.
    “Where would you like me to?” Belle responded with wagging brows.
    He didn’t answer, just gave her what she supposed was a darkling look. Rather than wait for an explicit go-ahead, she swung off the bed and started tugging her party dress’s snug sparkly sleeves down her arms. Just as he’d done for his own tuxedo, Duvall had repaired her gown, which the paramedics had cut off her. The thing dipped so low front and back, its zipper