Page 39 of Worth Any Price
She saw the predatory flicker in his eyes. He wanted her. He did not waste time asking questions, only extended his hand. “Come upstairs, then.”
Carefully Lottie placed her hand in his. “Nick, there is just one thing...”
“What?”
“It’s not dark yet.”
“And?”
“Is it appropriate to do this in the afternoon?”
The question pulled an unsteady laugh from him. “I don’t know. And I damn well don’t care.” Keeping her hand in his, he guided her from the library to the entrance hall, and up the grand staircase.
Chapter Nine
Lottie went upstairs with him, her hand caught fast in his, her legs feeling like rubber when they finally reached his bedroom. The curtains were parted, admitting soft gray light through the windows. She would have much preferred darkness. The thought of being naked in the unforgiving daylight caused her to shake all over.
“Easy,” Nick murmured, standing behind her. His hands closed gently around her upper arms. His voice was lower, thicker than usual. “I’ll be careful. I can make it pleasant for you, if...”
“If?”
“If you’ll trust me.”
They were both still and silent. Lottie moistened her lips, reflecting that she hadn’t trustedanyone in years. And to put her faith in Nick Gentry... the most unscrupulous man she had ever met... it was not folly, it was insanity. “Yes,” she said, surprising herself. “Yes, I will trust you.”
He made a soft sound, as if the words had caught him off guard.
Gradually his hand slid across the upper part of her chest, exerting a gentle pressure that caused her to lean back against him. She felt his mouth on the back of her neck, his lips playing through the tender wisps at her nape. He tasted the downy skin, then pressed the edge of his teeth in a sensitive spot that made her squirm against him in pleasure. Working his way to the side of her neck, he nibbled his way to the tip of her earlobe, while his hands moved over the front of her gown. The bodice parted, the sides listing to reveal the framework of the light corset beneath. His fingertips drifted to her throat, caressed the vulnerable curve, then traveled to the wing of her collarbone.
“You’re beautiful, Lottie,” he whispered. “The way you feel and taste... your skin, your hair...” He took the pins from her hair, sent them skittering to the carpet, and sank his fingers into the pale silken locks that fell over her shoulder. Bringing her hair to his face, he rubbed it against his cheek and chin. Heat played in her body, rising, intensifying, and she leaned back against the solid form behind her.
He eased her gown to her waist, helping her to extract her arms from the sleeves, his fingertips running lightly from her elbows to her underarms. Turning her to face him, Nick deftly unhooked the corset, releasing her from the wrapping of stays and laces. Her breasts, which had been propped artificially high in the boned supports, were left unconfined, the tips hardening against the thin crushed muslin of her chemise. His hand lifted, and he touched her through the sheer fabric. Sliding his fingers beneath the fullness of her breast, he drew his thumb over the shape of her nipple. His touch was very light, lingering at the tip until it burned.
Gasping, Lottie grasped his shoulders for balance. He slid a solid arm behind her back as he continued to toy gently with her body, taking the peak in his fingers, stroking softly. An ache of pleasure formed deep in her stomach as he cupped her breast in his hand, containing the roundness in his palm. Suddenly she wanted him to touch her other breast. She wanted his mouth on her, everywhere, and to slide her own lips across the heat of his skin, and to feel his unclothed body against hers. Frustrated and eager, she tugged at his coat, until his choppy laugh ruffled through her hair.
“Slowly,” he whispered. “There’s no need to hurry.” He removed his coat . . . waistcoat . . . stockings and shoes . . . trousers . . . shirt . . . and finally the linens that had obscured the startling sight of his erection.
Suddenly Lottie didn’t know where to look. He should have appeared vulnerable in his nakedness, but he seemed more powerful now than when he’d had his clothes on. His body was hewn with brutal grace, large and muscular and superbly fit. His bronze tan ended at his waistline, fading into the paler skin of his hips. A wealth of thick dark hair covered his chest, and there was another heavy patch of it at his groin, around the dark, upthrust length of his erection.
Nick’s fingertip traced the side of her scarlet cheek. “Do you know what is going to happen?”
Lottie nodded jerkily. “Yes, I think so.”
He stroked the underside of her chin, his fingertip leaving a trail of fire. “Who told you about it? Your mother?”
“Oh, no. She was going to explain everything to me the night before my wedding to Lord Radnor. But of course that never transpired.” Lottie closed her eyes as he caressed the side of her neck, his hand warm and a bit raspy from callouses. “I heard gossip at school, though. A few of the girls had... done things... and they told the rest of us about it.”
“Done what things?”
“Met in private with gentlemen friends, or cousins, and allowed them liberties.” Lottie opened her eyes and met his smiling gaze, refusing to look below the level of his collarbone.
“How far did the liberties go? As far as we went the other night?”
“Yes,” she forced herself to admit.
“Did you enjoy the way I touched you?” he asked softly.
Color blazed in her face, and she managed a jerking nod.
