Should they avoid that again, it might be all right.
And if not…
Well, there was plenty here to keep her mind occupied while he… did the deed. She could… date the tapestries on the walls by inspecting their weft and weave. Or she could categorize any one of a dozen artifacts artfully strewn about tables, the fireplace mantel, bookcases, or the escritoire.
If all else failed, she could close her eyes and think of England.
Alexandra did her level best to find a seductive position. Perhaps one she’d seen in theVenus of Urbino,a woman reclining on her side, her knee bent to accentuate the curve of her hip.
Or maybe standing against the bedpost, hands behind her? She discarded that one immediately as a supplicant pose.
She flopped to her back, maybe if she—
Footsteps approached from the hall, and her throat seized on a gasp as she sat up.
When the latch turned and Redmayne’s wide shoulders filled the arch of his doorway, Alexandra exploded into a series of loud, uncontrollable coughs.
He was at her side in a few long strides, his scars pinching as his brow wrinkled with concern, then alarm. “What’s happened?” he demanded. “Did you ingest anything?”
Alexandra attempted to speak through the spasms, which only served to make it worse. She seized his wrist as he made a frantic search of her vicinity and pulled him back toward the bed.
Her coughing resolved itself with a mighty sneeze.
He stared at her as though she’d just exorcised the devil. “What the hell is going on?”
Blinking up at him from watery eyes, she croaked, “No need to worry. I was choking.”
“On what, in God’s name?”
On her own fear. “On… myself. You startled me.”
“Istartledyou?”
His brows fell impossibly lower, and only then did Alexandra notice that he’d not only relieved himself of his mask, but of his cravat, tiepin, and jacket as well. His shirt fell open to the divot in his neck. She remembered what he’d been like in the storm. Wild and wet, the dark whirls of hair covering the swells of muscle on his chest visible beneath the shirt the rain had plastered to his torso.
“Alexandra.” His voice lowered in pitch. “What are you doing here?”
She stood on the round dais next to the bed still clutching him, finding that her fingers couldn’t even encircle his dense wrist. Though he stood a step beneath her on the dais, she still had to drag her eyes upward to meet his. What she found in those azure depths made her swallow hard and release him.
Her mission, she observed, shouldn’t at all be difficult to achieve if his gaze already contained such things.
“I’ve come to seduce you,” she announced.
His furrowed brows climbed toward his hairline in surprise. “Seduce me?”
It was her turn to frown. “You’re making a habit of repeating what I say as though it’s extraordinary or astonishing.”
“You’re making a habit of saying extraordinarily astonishing things,” he volleyed back. “I’m often uncertain I’ve heard you correctly.”
“Oh, well, you have.”
“Excellent.” Looking exceedingly pleased, he tugged his shirt from his trousers.
“Wait!” She held out a hand to stop him. “Don’t you want to know why I’ve decided to seduce you?”
He paused, eyeing her like Cecelia did the pastries she never denied herself. “Is it too much to hope that you were so overcome by my masculine appeal and erotic prowess that you couldn’t stand to live another moment without the pleasure of my touch?”
Alexandra gaped at him, rendered momentarily speechless.