Page 61 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
When he stalled, his breath coming in hot heated gusts against her skin, she barely managed to whisper, “What else?”
A low, delicious chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he lifted his head to look at her again.
“I see that you’re beautiful, Miss Alexandra Prince.”
“In some ways, it feels as if I’ve been uncertain my whole life. But in this, I’m not. I want this moment.” She curled her fingers along the edge of his collar, stroking one finger up his neck. “I want you.”
A tremor rippled through him. She felt it underneath her fingertips.
“And you?” she whispered. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely.” He bent and nuzzled her cheek. “My only struggle is patience.”
Allie smiled, tilting toward the feel of his stubbled jaw next to hers. “Are you usually impatient?” He didn’t seem to possess her impulsive nature. A detective needed to be methodical, surely.
He lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes a molten green, the stubble on his jaw highlighting the sharpness of that rigid line.
“Not usually, but I haven’t wanted anything this much in a very long time.” He lifted his hands to the neck of her gown and slid a button free, then stopped and drew in a sharp breath.
Allie reached for the buttons of his shirt, willing him to continue with hers, but he still hesitated.
“What is it?” she whispered. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to strip off every stitch of your clothing. Pull every pin from your hair. And lay you out on that bed.” He flicked his gaze to the spot. “I’ve imagined you that way.”
Allie slid her fingers between two buttons of his shirt to feel the hot, bare skin underneath.
“I want that,” she confessed, her breath shaky because her body had begun to hum with a need she’d never felt before. Not like this.
“Nothing happens until you’re ready, Alexandra.” He rasped her name so deliciously she felt as if he’d stroked her skin. “We’ll take it slow.”
“But I’m not sure I want to take it slow.” Allie reached up to unfasten the buttons at the neck of her gown.
Ben smiled and moved around behind her. “May I help?”
“Oh, most of the hooks are in the front. Just those few at the back.”
He placed a hand on her back, one heavy point of tantalizing heat. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t help. I might be tempted to rip something.”
As she continued unfastening her bodice, he moved away from her and over to poke at the fire.
She preferred his attention on her, but his momentary distance allowed her a moment to take in his room more thoroughly. A desk sat near the window, its top covered with intriguing objects. She wandered over as she worked her buttons free.
Much like his desk at work, there was an inkwell and nib pens, a blotter, a jar of glue, even a smooth, flat stone like the one she’d seen at Scotland Yard.
“Your desk at home is just as full of documents as your one at work,” she told him with genuine interest. “Do you ever sleep?”
“Not as often as I should.”
Even as she pulled the fabric of her bodice free of her skirt, she couldn’t resist reaching out with her other hand to run her fingertips along the piles of documents and various objects he used as paperweights.
“You didn’t like it when I did this at Scotland Yard,” she teased.
“You noticed,” he said, his voice deep and husky as he left the fire and came back to her.
“I noticed everything about you.” She didn’t mind confessing now how much he’d intrigued her. Reaching for his shirtfront, she tugged him closer. “Especially the unique shade of your eyes.”
“Is it unique?”
