Page 79 of Duke of Wickedness
“Do you like it?” The question slipped out, too vulnerable, before he could stop it.
She bit her lip and nodded, and it felt better than the most effusive praise she could offer.
He forced himself to be quick as he took off the swan gown. If he lingered, even for an instant, he would get distracted by her beauty. And, as tempting as the idea was, he was determined to give her this night. All of it.
These good intentions failed him entirely when he saw what she was wearing beneath her gown.
“Jesus Christ, Ariadne,” he said.
She looked down at herself, all coyness and false modesty. It was astonishing how this expression, so frustrating in most situations, could be so dashed appealing on her face.
“I might have borrowed from my trousseau,” she admitted, running a finger down the elegant lace trim of herextremelysensual chemise. “It occurred to me that nobody wasmakingme wait until I got married to use it.”
David very resolutely refused to have any feelings about looking at Ariadne in lace-trimmed underthings purchased originally for her husband. He simply did not think about it.
“You really have no supervision now that your siblings are all married, do you?” he teased, because if he didn’t make a joke, he was going to start having thoughts. Possibly feelings, as well. “You get up to all kinds of trouble.”
She gave a precious little shimmy that made the lace move tantalizingly against her bare skin.
God help him.
“Get this damn dress on before you kill me,” he breathed. It was honesty disguised as a jest.
She looked at him like she knew what she really meant. And then she turned her back and…
Well, that wasn’t any better, was it?
Unable to resist, David traced a finger along the low dip of the chemise in the back, the edges of the lace just tickling his skin as he drew a line down from her shoulder, across the rise of her shoulder blade, down over the muscles of her back.
She shivered, and he was sowretchedlyundone.
“The party is starting,” he said, more for his own benefit than hers. “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”
David scarcely breathed as he drew the fabric of the main gown over her shoulders. It was the same style as the first gown he’d sent her, and it went on more like a dressing gown than most of the frocks that were currently in fashion. This one, though, had more complicated ties, a series of them that the modiste had guided through tying on a dressmaker’s form, not a real person, of course. He’d paid close attention to the ties at the time, studying the process far more closely than he’d ever attended an exam back in his university days.
And thank Christ that he had focused so intently, because now it was almost impossible to focus on anything besides the smooth curve of Ariadne’s ribs, the soft swell of her breasts as he wrapped one side of the gown, then the other, tucking the ties until she was held firmly to the waist. Below that, the skirt fluttered, the fabric so lightweight that it was nearly sheer.
He smoothed a hand over the overlapping fabric at her ribs, coming around to the front of her.
He hadn’t dared make eye contact throughout this whole process, but now…
Her pupils were wide when she looked up at him, and she looked almost dazed. Her breasts surged with each of her breaths, and she reached out a hand to his arm, as if she needed help steadying herself.
“David,” she breathed. “I…”
He was so, so grateful that she didn’t finish whatever that thought was, because this whole thing was already bad enough. He already couldn’t fully hold back the fantasy, the pernicious littlewhat-ifs.
What if tonight didn’t have to be the end? What if he kept her, just for a little while longer? What if they explored everything she could imagine—together?
But that would be selfish. He wouldn’t deny her for his own benefit. He wouldn’t.
“You look so beautiful,” he told her. “You are so beautiful. You’re…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “You are incredible, Ariadne.”
He opened his eyes because he needed to look at her. She stared up at him, eyes fathomless. She opened her mouth to say something to him…
And he pulled away. Like a coward.
He turned and cleared his throat. He had a plan tonight. He was going to stick to it.
