Page 65 of The Gentleman Was Right
“And I?”
“Clearly know how to present yourself.”
His lips curved upward. “That feels like a compliment.”
She pressed her lips together as if she wanted to smile in return. “Just an observation.”
Hewouldtake it as a compliment.
After all, there was nothing wrong with having a wife who admired his appearance.
“Her critiques were not mean-spirited. At least I never took them that way. It was more that she has exacting standards. And an unerring eye for fashion. A decade of her guidance seems to have left an indelible impression on me.”
It was sometimes difficult to think about his mother, especially since she’d left without saying goodbye to marry a man closer to his age than her own. He didn’t begrudge her happiness, but he wished she had occasionally considered the feelings of her children when she made decisions. And that she hadn’t cared more about their appearance than their well-being.
“I didn’t intend to be critical of you. I simply thought it might be something you would enjoy.”
“You weren’t entirely wrong. I’m aware that the state of my wardrobe isn’t exactly impressive.” She rubbed her forehead. “I suppose…I’ll consider it.”
He didn’t press further. In fact, he didn’t intend to mention it again. At least, not unless she brought it up.
“Do you—” he started to say.
She spoke over him. “Would you like to retire to our room?”
The remaining wine sloshed in his glass as he sat it down and stood abruptly.
If he had the choose between attempting to converse without stumbling into one of the many topics that seemed to upset her or going upstairs and stripping the clothes from both of their bodies, there was no contest. Heknewwhich one he preferred without any doubt.
He barely managed to keep his voice steady as he said, “I would like that very much.”
They took the stairs side by side, and with every step their bodies seemed to gravitate toward each other. At first it was the brush of her forearm against his. Then it was the whisper of her skirts against his knee. And finally, it was the scent of her as she tipped her head in his direction.
He shifted closer, his arm sliding around the curve of her waist. Just like when they’d trudged through the rain, she fit perfectly against him. He tucked her into his side and held her tight, while her hand crept under his waistcoat. With nothing but a thin layer of fabric between them, he could appreciate the warmth of her palm.
When they reached the landing, he swept her into his arms, her threadbare dress offering only the thinnest barrier between her skin and his sleeve. She tucked her face into his neck as he moved the short distance to their room and hurried inside. Practically falling on top of her as he dropped her on the bed, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. She didn’t seem to care that he was crushing her into the mattress as her lips attached themselves to his.
Their tongues immediately collided and then tangled with each other.
Kissing her was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Joy radiated through his whole body. It lit him up, and the only thing that could make him stop was the need to breathe. He broke away just long enough to take a few heaving breaths before pressing his lips to hers once again.
They were both still fully clothed, with barely any skin available to touch, so her hands delved into his hair while she kissed him as feverishly as he kissed her. Gasps and moans filled the air as they battled for power, dominance, and most of all, pleasure.
They were consumed, practically mindless, and heaving for breath.
He pulled away slightly, and as if making a mutual decision that they’d never survive if they kept kissing with such ferocity, their next kiss was softer, almost languid. It wasn’t a lessening of passion, more of a declaration that they didn’t need to act as if they were desperate.
Theyweren’tdesperate. They could do this every day for the rest of their lives.
His lips drifted away as he pressed gentle open-mouthed kisses along her jaw. She tugged his hair and urged their lips back together before tipping her head to the side and guiding him to the sensitive skin at her neck.
Too much of her body was still covered by her gown, and he had to resist tearing it straight down the middle. In some situations, that sort of ferocious desire might be welcome, but after their conversation about her gowns, he didn’t want to risk infuriating her.
“Your lips are like magic.” Her eyelids fluttered as she sighed contentedly.
“I could put them to better use if you were wearing less clothing.”
She chuckled and arched her back. “I can hardly undress while your leg is pinning me to the bed.”
