Page 60 of Undercover Duke
Still, he resisted the urge to hurry. If he fell on Vanessa like a ravenous beast, he might frighten her. She might be a saucy wench, but she was still an innocent, and who knew how that would manifest itself? The last thing he needed on his wedding night was a woman sobbing over his unfeeling deflowering of her. So he prepared himself for anything. He might have been imagining this moment practically since he met her, but he could control himself.
Then he walked into Vanessa’s bedchamber to find that Bridget had vanished, and his self-control had apparently vanished with her. How else was he supposed to behave with Vanessa wearing a linen nightdress that, for all its modest, high-collared design, was practically transparent when she stood in front of the fire?
Did she realize it? Was she doing it on purpose to inflame his desires? Because she didn’t need to. His desires were pretty inflamed already.
“Are you all right?” she asked him. “You look incredibly serious.”
He forced his frown away. “I’m trying hard not to ravish you. But I can see every inch of you through that gown when you stand before the fire. Not that I mind, you understand. I merely thought you’d want to know.”
She half turned to stare at the fire as if accusing it of complicity with him, which told him she’d definitely not posed provocatively on purpose. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He wouldn’t mind her being provocative. He would damned well prefer her being provocative.
Then again, something about her guileless responses stoked his need even more.
“Do you wish me to don my wrapper?” she asked.
“No, indeed.” He approached her, his heart hammering in his chest. What he wished her to do was take her hair down. He’d expected to find her that way, actually. Then again, he might prefer to do that himself. “If you want, I’ll remove my banyan.”
She snorted. “That’s hardly the same. You have practically all your clothes on underneath.”
He suppressed a laugh. “Should I strip down to my shirt and smallclothes then?”Please say yes.
“If you wish.”
That was close enough to a yes for him to count it. But the uncertainty in her eyes made him hesitate. “You’re nervous.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Hardly. It’s not the same for a man. Any nervousness we might have pretty much vanishes whenever we see a half-dressed woman.”
That got a tentative smile from her, which was exactly what he’d hoped for.
He approached her to stroke a curl away from her forehead. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We have all night.”
“True,” she said with a bit too much enthusiasm.
“How about this? Let’s go sit and talk for a while.”Even if it kills me.“Then we’ll progress at whatever pace makes you more comfortable.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “Is this some sort of test?”
That caught him off-balance. “Of what?”
“I don’t know.” She turned away. “Mama told me that whatever you wanted, I was to do. And that even if I didn’t like it, I was to say I did, anyway.”
Good God. Just what he did not want of her. “Do you generally listen to what your mother says?”
Casting him a faint smile over one shoulder, she said, “Not usually, no.” Her smile faded. “But in this case, she has been married, and I have not. I have nothing with which to gauge the truth of her words.”
He walked up to take her hand. “Come sit with me.” He led her to a smallish settee.
“We can’t both fit on that,” she said.
“We can.” He smirked at her. “And anyway, I thought you were supposed to be doing whatever I told you to do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. See for yourself.”
Amused by her sudden crankiness, he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “I told you we could fit.”
Clearly fighting a smile, she shook her head. “I should have known you would never do what’s expected.”
