Page 111 of The Heiress's Daughter
“The bedclothes were the most important. As to the rest, ‘needs must.’ ”
She gave him a mock-stern look. “When the devil drives? Are you calling me a devil, Race Randall?”
He chuckled. “No, sweetheart, it was my own devil that was driving me, to get this room ready for the most important event of my life.”
“Oh.” It all came flooding back, the reason why she was here in the first place. “That.”
“Yes, my love, that.” He prowled toward her.
Suddenly nervous, she rose and moved to the window. The golden glory of the setting sun filtered through the leavesof the trees. She could catch only glimpses of the garden beneath. There were no curtains, but it was very private.
“You won’t need this.” She felt her cloak slide from her shoulders and for a moment felt like clinging to it. But that was ridiculous. She wanted this, wanted this man. Trusted him. Loved him.
She turned and found herself enclosed by his arms.
“Doubts?” he murmured.
She shook her head, unable to speak. Nerves, yes, a few. Doubts? Only of her ability to please him. She loved him, wholly and completely. He kissed her softly and led her to the bed. He draped her cloak over the armchair, then shrugged off his coat.
Clarissa sat on the edge of the bed. What should she do now? She supposed she should take off her clothes, too, but she hadn’t thought ahead sufficiently. Her dress was fastened down the back with hooks: she needed a maid to unhook her. She should have worn a different dress, but all she’d been thinking about was trying to look nice for him. Oh, why hadn’t she realized it? Every time she’d thought about her wedding night she’d imagined herself already in bed, wearing the beautiful embroidered silk nightgown that Miss Chance had given her. She gave one to each of her special clients when they got married.
Clarissa plucked at the fabric of her dress with nerveless fingers. Oh, this was so awkward. Any moment now he’d turn around, expecting her to have removed her dress.
He pulled off his boots, then his socks.
She bent to untie the strings of her shoes, but one had knotted. She tugged at it futilely.
“Allow me.” Dressed only in breeches and a shirt he knelt at her feet, and without even trying to undo the knot, slipped one shoe off, then the other. She sat there like a doll, feeling foolish, gazing down at his thick, dark hair, wanting to run her fingers through it but unable to move.
He set her shoes neatly aside, then reached for the ties ofher stockings. His hands were cold and she jumped, feeling them on her skin. “Sorry,” she whispered. And then confessed, “I need a maid to unhook my dress. I didn’t think…”
He glanced up, smiled and rose. “I will be your maid tonight.” He drew her to her feet. “Now, my lovely,” he began.
She grimaced.
He paused, his hands on her shoulders. “Why the face?”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t like false compliments. I know you mean well, but truly, I don’t need them. I know I’m not pretty.”
“False compliments? You think I’d offer you Spanish coin—false flattery—today, of all days?”
She just looked at him.
“Come here.” He led her to the long cheval looking glass. She glanced at her reflection and looked away. She never liked looking at her reflection.
“Almost every woman I’ve ever known,” he told her, his voice soft and deep, “is critical of her looks. Even those who most people think are beautiful will look in a mirror and see only what they consider flaws. But if you could see yourself through a man’s eyes, specifically my eyes…”
She couldn’t speak.
He stood behind her facing the looking glass, his eyes dark and intense. “You have the sweetest face, full of honesty, kindness and strength. And every time we meet I want to do this.” He ran the back of his fingers down one cheek, slowly, lingeringly. “Warm silk, and so soft…with a hint of rose-petal blush.”
She watched her blush rise, and swallowed.
“Your eyes are as clear as a mountain stream, so expressive and lovely I sometimes feel I could happily drown in them. And when you smile, the radiance that shines from them…
“Which brings me to your lovely, luscious mouth.” His thumb ran gently over her lips and a warm shudder trembled through her. “Utterly delectable.”
He turned her around, bent and kissed her, just a brush of lips over lips. It left her hungry, wanting more. She raised herself onto her toes and kissed him back.
