Page 88 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

“That you are, by most women’s estimations, handsome. So there is a sort of animal appeal.”

Oh, he shouldn’t bait her. Not with her inching toward the inevitable. However, he simply couldn’t resist. “So, I appeal to your baser instincts, eh? Might I hope this means you are becoming amenable to consummating our marriage?” He patted the mattress beside him to emphasize his point.

Infinitesimal at most, the flicker of her eyes toward the bed spoke volumes. “I am considering it. You did mention you wished to have a son to inherit, and consummation is the task to accomplish that goal.”

“Task? You make it sound like a chore, sterile and something to endure rather than enjoy.”

She gave one of those snorts he found adorable. “Men find it enjoyable.”

“For someone without experience in the matter, you seem to have some rather strong opinions on the subject. Wouldn’t you rather make your pronouncement based on facts?”

She arched a dark brown at him. “How do you propose I do that?”

“Why don’t we start slowly? Experiment a little with what you will enjoy. For example, let’s return to the topic we started with—kissing.”

Again, only a fraction, and if he’d not been paying attention, he would have missed it, but her shoulders relaxed. Lucky for him, he was a very observant man.

She gave a curt nod. “Very well.”

Instinct told him the whole endeavor—good Lord, now evenhewas thinking of it as a duty—would progress better if she maintained control.

“Would you like to come sit by me here, or would you prefer to stand?”

She barely hesitated. “Stand.”

He rose first, and in long easy strides so as not to appear too eager—although in truth he was—he stood before her, holding out his hand. “Allow me to help you up.”

“Kissing only. You promise?”

“Promise. On my honor.”

She slipped her hand into his, the electric charge of contact sparking through his veins. Her lips parted slightly as her gaze darted to his.

“That’s called attraction, Charlotte. Do you find it pleasant?”

“I find it disconcerting.”

He laughed. “I’ll accept that. For now. But first, I want to kiss that dimple. Smile for me and remind me exactly where it is. Think of the look on your brother’s face when I cast up my accounts all over him.”

Her dark eyes sparkling with mischief, Charlotte graced him with a glorious smile.

Ah, there’s that dimple.

Charlotte foughta laugh at Simon’s absurd suggestion. However, the expression on Roland’s face had been the one bright spot in the day which had tied her to the man in front of her for life.

And now Simon was her husband—wanting husbandly things.

What was she doing? Still, she promised herself she would try. And he promised he wouldn’t force her.

Simon’s blue eyes grew dusky and hooded as he lowered his head. The kiss against her cheek was soft . . . and nice. The skin on her arms pebbled, and feathery wings battered her stomach. Nothing like the sloppy kiss Felix had forced on her less than a month ago.

Too soon for her liking, he pulled back. “Well? Did you enjoy that? Because I certainly did.” He definitely looked like the cat that got into the cream.

“It was not—unpleasant.”

He laughed. The buffoon saw right through her. Perhaps he wasn’t such a fool after all. “Then might I interest you in another? That hollow in your throat has my name on it.”

Unbidden, her hand flew to the soft indentation, already anticipating the press of his lips against her skin.

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