Page 67 of Romancing the Scot
Whether she slept for minutes or hours, she didn’t know. But she awakened with a start at a soft tap on her bedroom door.
She sat up, disoriented. The candle still burned on the bedside table. Then she remembered. Jo told her she might come up and say good night before she retired herself.
There was the soft tap again.
Grace rolled out of the bed and went to the door, opening it.
Hugh stood in the hall, dressed only in the tight buff trousers he’d been wearing earlier and a white shirt, open at the neck. She had to be dreaming.
“Were you asleep?”
He was real. No one had the right to look this good. A delicious sweetness seeped into her body.
“Yes, I was.” She forced herself to take steady breaths. “Why are you here?”
His hand ever so gently pushed open the door and she moved back, allowing him in. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Your sister might come up soon.”
“Jo retired hours ago.”
The night air mingled with the scent of whiskey and smoke. His eyes washed over her like moonlight, taking in her face, her lips, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She saw him draw a deep breath as he looked down at her neck to the ties of the thin linen chemise and lower, lingering on her breasts. Her skin warmed to the lick of his gaze. She was bathed and stripped naked, ravaged by his heat.
Desire rippled through her. She wanted the taste of his lips, the pressure of them on her own. She stepped toward him, but he reached out and took her by the shoulders, holding her ever so gently at arm’s length.
“You can’t touch me.” His strong fingers slid down her arms, and he took her hands. “Step back, Grace.”
She took a step or two until she found her back pressed against a wall.
Hugh let go of her hands. His eyes returned to the deep neckline of the chemise.
Grace felt an ache in her breasts as the tips of her nipples hardened against the thin fabric. His eyes continued downward, burning her with the touch of his gaze.
“I want you.” His voice, low and strained, sent tremors through her. The soft light of the candle accentuated the lines of his face. “For hours now, I’ve been pacing my bedroom, imagining what it would be like to come here. Telling myself that I shouldn’t, and yet hoping I’d find you like this.”
The sparks blazed. Unconsciously, her eyes moved to the unmade bed. She wanted him to take her there, teach her what she had never before experienced. She wanted him to make love to her.
He followed her gaze. “Not yet. Not tonight.”
Grace forced herself to think through the fog of desire. “Then what do you want from me?”
He closed the distance between them. “I needed to see you. To touch you.”
Their bodies were separated by a breath. She reached up to put her arms around his neck, but he caught her wrists and pressed them against the wall over her head.
“And I am barely balanced at the edge of a very dangerous place. So you mustn’t tempt me. You mustn’t try to seduce me.”
“You are the tempter,” she said. In her entire life, she’d never imagined herself proficient in the powers of seduction.
He bent his head and kissed her softly. She leaned into him, a soft moan escaping her.
“Keep them there.” He let go of her wrists.
She didn’t know the game he was playing, but she was willing to take the chance. Her hands fisted next to her head as he ran the tips of his fingers over her face, tracing her brows, her cheekbones, the outline of her lips, with gentle, tender touches.
Hugh’s hands went to the ties of her chemise, and Grace felt the breath catch in her throat. There was no escaping this gentle torture with the wall behind her and the man before her.
One by one the laces loosened. She looked down at his hands, dark against the linen and even darker against her skin as he slid the garment past her breasts. Grace shivered as the cool air touched her.
