Page 111 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Harrison dimmed the gas lamp mounted on the wall. The light cast a soft glow over the chamber, gleaming softly against the shades of gold and red in Grace’s lush curls. Moving soundlessly over the rug, he came to where she stood, just beyond the connecting door.
Unwilling to offend Mrs. Carmichael’s sense of propriety, she’d returned to their shared chamber, then waited for the matron to doze off before slipping through the door that joined the rooms. In the dim light, the deep blue silk of her wrapper looked like sapphires. An image of a gold band adorned with sapphires and diamonds flickered in his mind’s eye. He’d place the ring on the third finger of her left hand. He’d glance down at that symbol until the end of his days…
God above, what had come over him? He banished the image and the preposterous thoughts to some dark corner of his mind. He didn’t have a lifetime with Grace.
He had only this one last night.
His conscience flared. If he was a true man of integrity, he’d face the inevitable and send her back to her chamber. Loving her tonight would only make the morning—and the reality it would bring—more difficult for both of them.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Her voice was whisper soft, her tone intriguing.
“Do you now?” he asked, studying her.
“You’re having doubts…about tonight…about us.”
The image of the ring flashed back through his thoughts. “No—I don’t doubt that I want you more than I have any right to.”
She came to him, pressing her satin-smooth palm to his cheek. “I want you, Harrison. More than you can imagine. This is not a surrender. Far from it.”
Standing on the tips of her toes, she brushed a kiss over his mouth. Featherlight. And more seductive than the boldest of caresses.
Letting out a breath, he took her in his arms. As if with a will of their own, his fingers laced through the long, fine curls of her hair.
He was mesmerized by her. By the silken texture of her locks. By the light scent of lavender that filled his senses. By the feel of her lips against his.
Somehow, everything was new to him. Different, in a way he couldn’t begin to explain. He, who prided himself on his glib command of the English language, could not put his feelings into words.
He framed her face in his hands, drinking her in. God above, she was beautiful. Never in his wildest, most decadent dreams had he imagined he’d have a woman like Grace in his arms.
In his bed.
The most tempting of smiles curved her rose-tinted mouth. Unable to hold back any longer, he kissed her, a leisurely possession. Savoring the taste of her lips. Savoring this moment.
Savoringher.
Her hands went to the tie on the wrapper and cast it aside. With a shrug, she shed the garment. It pooled on the carpet around her slippered feet, and she took a step back.
He swept his gaze over her. Unlike the first time they’d shared a bed together during this mission, not a trace of flannelette was in sight. No, the well-worn, heavily mended nightdress she’d worn throughout their journey had been left behind. Tonight, she wore a filmy gown of delicate white fabric trimmed with tiny ribbon roses and lace. Where had she obtained the not-quite-sheer garment?
Not that it mattered what she wore, he thought with a smile. Her smile had been as alluring as a siren’s song, even in a gown so modest, he hadn’t glimpsed even a trace of skin below her neck. Truth be told, in an old gunny sack with holes cut out for her head and arms, Grace would still be the most tempting woman he’d ever seen.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, a heartbeat before he kissed her again.
When their lips parted, she reached for him. Her fingertips danced over his skin. A small smile played on her lips as she appeared to explore the contrasts between the male and female form. Her fingers grazed the line of his shoulders, gliding lower over his skin, lightly slipping through the hair on his chest. He held himself very still, allowing her time to learn the texture of his skin and the contours of his body.
Beneath the gauze-thin gown, her rounded breasts pressed against the cloth, her dusky rose nipples tempting him through the translucent cloth.
“I never realized a man could be so…hard,” she whispered, gliding over the flat plane of his abdomen. Mischief twinkled in her dark eyes.
Hard.The little minx knew full well what she was doing. If she intended to tempt him to the brink of restraint, she was doing a damned fine job of it. Fully erect and demanding, his cock rebelled against the fabric of his trousers.
“My nightdress…do you like it?” she murmured as she moved to stroke the edge of his collarbone.
“God, yes,” he blurted out, desire robbing him of any trace of eloquence, of any subtlety.
A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Good.”
