Page 83 of In the Prince's Bed
“You certainly know very well how to undress a woman.”
“I’ve undressed a few,” he admitted as he tossed the corset aside. “Though not as many as you seem to think. And not for some time.” From behind her, he brought his hands up to cup her thinly clad breasts. “Is that what’s worrying you—that I’m wicked enough to seduce you and not marry you?”
“I never said you were wic—”
“What does your book say about rakes marrying, anyway? Or are they not supposed to?”
It was hard to think with him fondling her breasts so deliciously, but she roused herself to answer. “It says…married rakes should be…discreet.”
“God rot it. I’ll have to burn that blasted thing.”
“Or stop following it.”
He tugged her around to face him, his face ablaze. “I’venever—”
“I know.” She pressed her hand to his lips. “I do know.” Only when his fury abated did she drop her hand. “But apparently rakehells and respectable men on the prowl think alike.”
He eyed her warily. “In what way?”
“You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”
He hesitated, then gave a tight shake of his head. “I’m trying to make love to you. It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Seduction is when a man coerces a woman into saying yes to sharing his bed.” He drew her close, then bent his head to whisper, “Making love is when she says yes because she wants to be there.”
Thatwas certainly not inThe Rake’s Rhetorick.She’d read enough to know that the anonymous author didn’t believe in giving the woman much choice.
“And why should I say yes?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she was doomed. Because she was already thinking about it, already wanting it, already—
“Because you need me as much as I need you.” He kissed her again, the slow-burning kiss of a man who knew what he wanted, who knew whatshewanted, better than she knew herself. “Show me you trust me, sweetheart.” He nibbled her lip. “Show me you won’t go running to Lovelace the minute I disappoint you. Show me you want to marry me.”
Now that his anger seemed to have ebbed, he was far more dangerous to her self-control. “I do want to marry you, but…there will have to be rules.”
“No rules.” His face shone hard as steel.
“But—”
“No,” he growled, dragging her chemise over her head and tossing it aside.
She wore no drawers, and his eyes widened, raking her naked body with obvious desire. Self-conscious, she started to cover herself with her hands, but he caught them in his as he drank his fill.
He lifted a fiery gaze to her face. “You have too many rules, sweetheart. Demand anything of me you wish when we’re in society, but when we’re alone, there will be only one rule.”
Her bared nipples puckered beneath his hot glance. “Wh-what rule is that?”
“The rule of lovers: All that matters is pleasing each other.”
“And if I want more? If I want…” What? Love? She’d told him she didn’t believe in love. “Mutual affection? Consideration for my feelings?”
“You’ll have that, too,” he said, though a strangely haunted look shadowed his features as he drew her close. “You will, I swear.”
For some insane reason, she believed him. “All right. Then, yes.”
His hands tightened on her waist. “Yes, what?”
“You said making love is when a woman says—”
