Page 69 of Touched By a Traitor
Andrew’s gaze drifted longingly to the housecoat he had so recently discarded, now draped haphazardly over the divan. “I find myself regretting my earlier decision to make myself more comfortable.”
Charlotte shrugged. “What’s the worst that could befall you, should you find yourself standing before me in nothing but your skin?”
“That you might flee, and I, in my state of undress, would be powerless to give chase,” he said.
“Cowardice has never been a trait I’ve associated with you, my lord. Do you accept the challenge?”
With a nod of his head, Andrew acquiesced. “I do, my lady wife. You may begin.”
Charlotte crossed her arms, pacing the room with an air of pensive contemplation. After several long, torturous moments, designed to stoke the fires of his anticipation and unease, she turned to him, her eyes full of mischief.
“Please tell me, my lord, what is the legal term for an individual who meets their demise without leaving behind a valid will?”
“An intestate,” Andrew replied without hesitation.
Charlotte stared at him, her lips parted in surprise.
“I must point out, my sweet,” he said, a teasing note in his voice, “that your question bears little relevance to the realm of business. I can’t help but suspect you of attempting to swindle me.”
A flicker of panic danced across her face, but she quickly masked her unease with a tight smile. “My apologies, my lord. Let us begin anew.”
“No,” Andrew said firmly, his gaze intense. “I’m waiting.”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Charlotte tugged at the strings on her housecoat, her fingers trembling slightly as she removed the garment. It was hardly an act that should have caused such apprehension, given what had transpired in the bath closet, but the power he held over her, the way he could make her tremble with a single look, thrilled her in ways she dared not admit.
Collecting herself, Charlotte stood tall in her night rail, the soft fabric clinging to her curves as she posed another question. “In the realm of contract law, what term is used to describe a clause that stipulates the sum of damages to be paid by a party who fails to fulfill their contractual obligations?”
A slow, wicked smile spread across Andrew’s handsome face. “A penalty clause,” he answered, his voice low and rich with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, my wife, I might suspect that you harbored a secret desire to divest yourself of your clothing.”
A soft, breathy laugh escaped her lips, more from anxiety than mirth. Without uttering a response, she sat down and reached for her garter, careful not to lift her shift in the process.
“No,” Andrew said, his voice low and rasping. The sound sent shivers down her spine. Charlotte’s gaze snapped up to meet his, and she watched his eyes darken, his jaw tightening with barely restrained desire. “Leave your stockings on.”
Swallowing hard, Charlotte stood and untied the ribbon on one shoulder, holding her night rail in place. She pulled on it with deliberate slowness, her movements carefully measured to reveal as little as possible. She had underestimated him, she realized, and would need to pose more challenging questions if she hoped to maintain any semblance of modesty.
With one ribbon untied, Charlotte lifted her chin, trying to collect as much dignity as she could muster. A quirk of his brow and the upward curve of one corner of his lip was his only response as he stepped closer until he could reach out and touch her. With one long finger, he reached for the ribbon lying loosely against her flesh. Avoiding direct contact, he brushed the ribbon aside, sucking in a sharp breath as the action revealed one perfect, round breast. The rosy, pink peak tightened under his heated gaze.
Charlotte studied the play of emotions across his face, fascinated by the way desire warred with restraint, before allowing her gaze to drift lower, to the thick shaft that strained against the confines of his trousers.
Steadying her own breath, Charlotte pressed on, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “In the context of a contract for the sale of goods, what legal principle allows a seller to recover the full contract price from a buyer who wrongfully refuses to accept and pay for the goods?”
“The action for goods bargained and sold,” Andrew replied, his gaze fixed upon her with an intensity that made her knees weak.
With shaking hands, Charlotte tugged on the ribbon at her other shoulder, carefully untying only the first knot, silently praying that the remaining knot would hold. To her relief, it did, but Andrew, it seemed, would not allow it.
With an impatient tug, he pulled at the ribbon, and the night rail pooled at her feet, leaving her bare save for her garters and stockings. An audible groan escaped his throat, his breathing growing shallow as she watched his eyes drink in the sight of her: the swell of her breasts, the delicate peaks of her nipples, and the allure of the apex between her thighs.
Instinctively, Charlotte moved to cover herself, but with a speed that left her breathless, Andrew had her pinned against the wall, her arms shackled above her head by his powerful grip. His eyes, half-hooded with desire, roved over her breasts again and again until she felt she might faint from the sheer intensity of his gaze. But her pride demanded to be restored, and so, with a breathless whisper, she continued.
“W-what is the legal concept that allows a party to a contract to be excused”—she swallowed hard, her voice trembling—“from performance due to an unforeseen event that renders performance impossible or impractical?”
“Sweet Jesus… I can’t think, and I don’t care…” Andrew rasped, his voice rough.
When Charlotte remained silent, a smile playing about her lips like that of a cat with its prey, he rolled his eyes and released her arms. With deft movements, he removed his own shirt, leaving Charlotte to stare in open admiration. He was an impressive specimen, every sinewy muscle proof of his strength and power. Her gaze settled on a long scar she had noticed before, now realizing it extended the length of his back.
Noticing her curiosity, Andrew spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush. “A chain broke off a thousand-pound crate, whipping me in the process. I would’ve been crushed under the weight if a fellow docker, David, hadn’t pushed me out of the way.”
Charlotte’s hand flew to her lips, her own state of undress momentarily forgotten. “I am so sorry. How… how fared David?”
