Page 75 of Counting on a Countess
She sat upright and pressed her hand to the center of her chest. A furious thudding echoed beneath her palm—from anticipation and trepidation.
The time was now. She didn’t want to wait any longer.
She eased from bed. Momentum carried her on toward a destination she feared and longed for. Before she could talk herself out of her decision, she walked to the hidden door that separated her bedroom from Kit’s and pressed her ear to the wood. There was no sound, but a thin line of light shone from beneath the door.
Tamsyn knocked. A moment passed, and then another. Had he gone out? Fallen asleep? Should she knock again?
As she wrestled with these questions, the door opened. Kit stood before her, wearing only an open shirt and a pair of breeches. He held a book in one hand. Her gaze took in many details at once—the strong column of his neck; the parted fabric of his shirt, which revealed the upper part of his chest; all the way down to his long, bare feet, which struck her as powerfully masculine.
Only when Kit cleared his throat did she realize she stared at the golden hair that curled on his pectorals. Her gaze flew up to meet his.
His eyes were both wry and curious. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”
“May I come in?”
He stepped back, giving her access to his room. Quickly, before she lost her courage, she crossed the threshold. He shut the door behind her.
Dark hues dominated in his bedchamber, with burgundy walls and heavy mahogany furnishing and paintings of dead animals. A waistcoat and jacket were draped over a wingback chair near the fire, and a pair of tall boots stood nearby. Several books had been stacked atop a writing desk in the corner.
“The decor is a trifle aggressive,” Kit said conversationally, glancing at one of the paintings. “I call this styleEarly Brute.” When Tamsyn turned to face him, he set his book aside and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. She tried, and failed, not to watch how the lightweight fabric of his shirt pulled across his torso and arms. “I expected you to be unconscious in your bed. At dinner, you were half-asleep in the consommé.”
“I had difficulty sleeping.” She paced to stand in front of the fire, but the dancing flames couldn’t hold her attention, and she turned back to face him.
Kit’s expression sharpened and he straightened to his full height. “This isn’t a complaint, but I feel honor-bound to tell you that when you stand in front of the fire, your nightgown goes transparent.”
Tamsyn glanced down at herself in alarm. In her haste, she’d forgotten a dressing gown. Her first impulse was to dart away from the illuminating flames. Instead, she stayed where she was.
Her chin tipped up. “So it does.”
He dragged his gaze up to her face. “Tamsyn,” he said, his voice low and dark, “if this is some kind of test, you should go back to your room.”
“Will you lose control of yourself?”
He exhaled roughly. “No. Any man who says that he can’t control himself is a liar. Menalwayshave a choice.” Glancing down, he dragged a hand through his hair. “However, if you insist on parading your delicious body in front of me, I may need to take my leave of you and go swimming in the nice, cold Serpentine.”
“You think my body is delicious?” The idea was wonderful, if a little alarming.
Kit aimed a long-suffering look at her. “Starving men have looked at ten-course banquets with less hunger than I feel for you. And I think you know it.” He paced to the door and opened it. “I don’t like asking for anyone’s pity, but if you have any, please go.”
She drew upon her reserves of courage and stalked to him. Gripping his shoulders, she rose up on her toes to give him a firm, demanding kiss. Yet he didn’t move or return the kiss.
Pulling back, she frowned. “You don’t want me.”
“Goddamn it, Tamsyn,” he growled. “You’re killing me with your kisses.”
“I’m ready,” she announced.
His brow furrowed. “For what?”
She glanced toward the bed, then back at him. “We’ve waited long enough.”
For a moment, he did nothing. Then, without taking his gaze from her, he closed the door.
He reached for her, but she’d already hurried to the bed and sat upon it. He approached and lowered down beside her on the edge of the bed, placing his hand just above her knee. Fabric from her nightgown covered her legs, but his touch sent crackles of lightning along her body.
His hand lightly curved around the side of her neck as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss started gently as he took light sips from her mouth, then it intensified as she opened to him. He stroked his tongue against hers. A flame of arousal flared higher within her and built with each caress.
She gasped when he stroked his fingers over her breast, causing her nipple to firm to a sensitive point. As he fondled her breast, more desire swirled in her, and she leaned into his touch.
