Bathsheba Read Free Page A

of my stomach into a wild swirl. I wrapped my arms around his neck, a half smile twisting my mouth. Would I ever be able to deny him anything?
    When he pulled away and whispered my name, I trailed my fingertips across the oiled tendrils of his beard and searched his dark eyes. A wave of tenderness swept through me, but I had no time to explore that feeling, for my tall husband’s hands cupped my face and pulled me toward him. I stretched on tiptoe, wondering if he would lift me off the floor.
    My impatient husband picked me up and lowered me onto our rose-covered bed. A fresh linen sheet had been spread over the blanket to gather the proof of my virginity, but Uriah paid it no mind as he stretched out, scattering red and pink petals onto the floor. I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the flowers, and as his left arm encircled me, I realized that I had never lain so close to any man, not even a brother.
    “Bathsheba?”
    I opened my eyes to see him peering at me. “Yes?”
    “Are you . . . all right?”
    I nodded, then forced myself to speak. “I am fine.” I caught his free hand and pressed my lips to his palm, then met his gaze again. “I am fine, husband.”
    He pressed his lips to the pulsing hollow at the base of my throat. With his left hand he stroked my hair, and then, as a trembling thrill raced through me, his fingers trailed down my arm and over my breast. I clung to him, kissing his neck, his shoulder, his strong jaw, the tiny curls near his earlobes—
    I do not need to write of the private moments that followed. Any woman who has ever surrendered to a man who loves her knows about the pain and the passion of those first private moments.
    When the storm of our desire finally subsided, I whimpered in his arms, then exhaled a slow, steady breath.
    I had been vanquished. I had become flesh of this man’s flesh.
    I finally understood how it felt to utterly belong to a beloved man.

Chapter Four Nathan
    T HE CELEBRATION HAD OVERFLOWED the newlyweds’ courtyard by the time I arrived. I threaded my way through the throng and found Ahithophel, the king’s chief counselor, talking to the bride’s father near the courtyard gate. Since both men were close to the king, I wondered if David himself might appear.
    “Greetings.” I nodded to each of them. “Congratulations on this wonderful occasion. I know the bride is beautiful and the groom a good man.”
    A small frown appeared between Ahithophel’s brows, as if he were struggling to place my face, but Eliam had no trouble remembering me. “Nathan! How good it is to see you.” He gripped my shoulders and kissed both my cheeks. “Have some wine. Elisheba will bring out food as soon as the bride and groom reappear.”
    I took the cup he offered, lifted it in a silent salute to the newlyweds, then took a hearty swallow. Lowering my cup, I surveyedthe merrymakers in the street. “So many of David’s mighty men are here: Ashel, Zelek, Gareb, and Benaiah. Will the king celebrate with us today?”
    Eliam and Ahithophel cast each other a look, and the bride’s father burst out laughing. “Considering the many wives in David’s harem, I doubt he has the strength to even attend another wedding. We were just joking that the king needs to enlarge his palace to make room for all his women.”
    “Seven wives kept him busy in Hebron,” Ahithophel said, lifting his cup, “and one would think a woman for each day of the week would satisfy any man. But David has quite an appetite for beauty.”
    “An uncommon appetite,” Eliam said with an arched brow. “But then, he is the king. Who are we to deny him?”
    I sipped from my cup, then politely turned my attention toward the older man, whose reputation for wisdom and virtue was legendary. “Have you more than one wife, sir?”
    A muscle twitched at the corner of the counselor’s eye. He shook his head. “Adonai blessed me with a virtuous woman, but she died years ago. Unfortunately, my son is