“Slight? It cut through your clothing!”
“Perhaps I wasn’t wearing any,” he suggested, but he observed her far too closely.
“A lover? In that case, you would be more cautious with me.” Exasperation made her brusque. “What have you been doing with your life, Mr. Windberry?”
“I hunt with a rough crowd.”
Indeed he did. Had she thought him a gentleman farmer? She now suspected…She didn’t know what she suspected, but she knew he needed more affection than any man she’d ever met, and she knew she was the woman to give it to him. Kissing his fingertips, she traced the line from one side of his belly to the other with her lightest touch.
He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and marveled at the satiny texture of her skin. “You’re an extraordinary girl.”
“Never forget that.” She smiled and circled him, viewing him intently.
What did she think of this body, so battered by violence? Did she believe any of his tales? Did she care? Was she using him for just this one night and imagining she would move on without regrets or anguish …and why did the mere idea fill him with rage?
He was such a fool. He wanted her to love him. He was going to do everything in his power to make her love him—before she found out his true identity.
Her gaze warmed his back. The bullet had exited above his shoulder blade, and she found that place and kissed it. Her fingers traced his spine. She cupped the roundness of his buttocks. “You’re the finest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of viewing.” She praised him with a wanton’s enthusiasm—and a virgin’s ineptitude. “Of course, you’re the only man I’ve had the pleasure of viewing naked.”
He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. He didn’t dare move, could scarcely draw breath.
If she had experience, she would know enough to be frightened, for he was a man balanced on the sharp edge of control. The urge to take her now burned in him.
But he had so carefully cultivated her trust. If he scared her, if he hurt her, she would shy from him…and he couldn’t bear that. She’d suffered bad experiences with the men in her life. By God, she would never compare him to her other suitors. She would always trust him. He was going to marry her.
And so he trembled in the novelty of having a woman view him from every angle, and stroke him as if touching his skin gave her delight. “Come here,” he commanded.
He used his most coaxing tone, but something of his desperation must have sounded in his voice, for she skittered around and viewed him with some suspicion. “Why?”
He spread his hands wide at his side and injected innocence into his tone. “I want to help you discard your clothes.”
She relaxed. “I’ll wager you do. I’ll wager I know why, too.”
Now he circled her. The row of tiny pink buttons down her back challenged him as no fight ever had. He wanted to rip them open, tear her clothes away, get to the passion this instant. Instead he freed her one button at a time, and for each button he dropped a tiny kiss on herback. He kept his gaze fixed on the golden skin of her shoulders and spine, for he dared not lean over and watch as her breasts were freed from the constraint of her gown. That would strain his precarious control to the limit. It was difficult enough uncovering her and knowing soon he would have her.
Her head was bent, wisps of her blond hair brushed the tender skin of her neck. He pushed the cap sleeves down her arms, and for a moment, she caught the material and held it before her.
Charmed by her modesty, he murmured in her ear, “Please. Let me see.”
She released her grip, and the gown slithered to the floor in a rich pool of velvet. He turned her to face him and saw the plain white chemise, free of all decoration yet made feminine by her form. He saw the color of her flesh beneath the material, the outline of her nipples, the faint mound of the curls between her legs. She was beautiful, a feast for his starving senses, and until he saw her, he hadn’t even realized the truth—that he had been wasting away.
She was staring at him, too, staring at his erection as if the reality of her venture had finally hit her.
He bent down until his face was level with her gaze. Her eyes jerked to meet his, and he said, “I’m up here.”
Her jaw dropped as she registered the quip that she had so recently used on him, then a lovely smile bloomed on her face, and she answered in his words. “I will endeavor to remember the position of your face in reference to your body.”
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he kissed her lips softly, trying to beguile her into believing that he was poised and in control. He must have succeeded, for she sighed and relaxed into him, resting those magnificent breasts against his chest. Her nipples might as well have been redhot pokers, branding his bare skin. And his erection hardened yet more, prodding at her belly in an inelegant declaration of lust. His patience, such as it was, was unraveling, and he led her toward the bed. “Your slippers are charming, but we can dispense with them.”
“I did.”
He glanced back to see she’d walked out of them. He took a breath. She was bold. She was shy. She was the epitome of woman to him, and he had her here, now, in his grasp. Lifting her by the waist, he placed her on the high mattress. She sat facing him, her feet dangling over the side. Her legs were long, the chemise rode up to the tops of her thighs. He couldn’t resist touching the creamy skin on the inside of her knee and noting the sleek texture of her muscles. She was a strong woman, one who cared for her father’s lands and duped unwanted suitors. He had no use for invalids or silly girls, so Jessie was perfect for him.
Perfect for too many men. All her suitors wanted her and not, as she imagined, just for her fortune. They wanted her for this. But she was his.
“Harry?” She sounded cautious. “You look so fierce.”
He slid to his knees before her. “I’m feeling fierce.” But he kept his voice mild and hoped that she didn’t see the primitive force that clawed within him, demanding to be released. Fixing his gaze on her garters, he loosened first one, and then the other. Carefully he rolled the silk stockings down her legs and off the ends of her toes.