Page 35 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
His head came up sharply. She felt more than saw the intensity in his gaze. “Then why were you here?”
“I’d changed my mind about posing for you. It occurred to me that mayhap I did myself no great service by being so cowardly. If I couldn’t agree to your simple request, how did I think I was going to climb between the sheets with a stranger?”
“You’re not. You’re only going beneath the covers with me.”
Her first inclination was to object. She was too independent to be told what to do. But she had already decided that when the time came, he was the one she wanted. That he wanted her only sealed things. “You don’t bed virgins,” she reminded him.
“I’ve decided to make an exception. God help me. I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you.” Then his mouth came down on hers again, hard and demanding, as though he were intent on devouring every inch of her.
Fool that she was, she gloried in being wanted. It didn’t matter that everything he yearned for, all that he knew of her, was the surface, her body and limbs. At long last, a man wanted to take her to his bed. Desired her. Was mad to possess her.
It wasn’t complete or perfect, deep or binding. But it was all heat and fire, urgency and need. She’d take it.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but he still held them in place, maintaining control, taking without quarter. When next he broke off the kiss, he was breathing as harshly as she.
“Remove the mask. Reveal yourself,” he commanded.
Slowly, she shook her head. He wasn’t completely in control after all. “No.”
“Why?”
Because the illusion of perfection would be shattered, and you wouldn’t want me anymore.“You can’t know who I am. That’s the magic of this place. That ladies are anonymous, so we don’t have to fear public ruination or damage to our reputations.”
“I want to know who you are.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this if you do. I can’t do any of it. I can’t even pose for you.”
“Do you fear that I’ll judge you?”
“No.”I fear you’ll change your mind.“I’m just more comfortable behind the mask.”
She counted the heartbeats, waiting for him to react, to say something, anything.
“Then keep it on,” he said quietly, and his hand loosened from around her wrists as he stepped back.
She lowered her arms. “Are you angry?”
“Disappointed. But we all have our secrets; we all have the right to keep them.”
“I can’t imagine that you have any.”
His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Then you are sadly lacking in imagination.” He walked over to the table. “Scotch or brandy?”
“Brandy.”
“You didn’t strike me as a shy miss,” he said as he poured the amber liquid into two snifters.
“What we’re doing here ... I fear feeling exposed, when all is said and done. I’m not quite comfortable with it, but I don’t know that I can live with myself if I prove to be an absolute coward.”
Returning to her, he handed her a snifter. Taking a sip, she relished the warmth swirling through her but the result wasn’t nearly as heated or pleasant as his kiss.
“So tonight, you’re only here to be photographed?” he asked.
“That’s my present course. I simply don’t know that I’m prepared to go further, which I realize brings into question my wisdom in coming here the first night, but desperation sometimes has us being unwise. I know it’s frustrating—”
“I shall have my photograph.” He tucked his finger beneath her chin, tilted her head up slightly, and kissed her, not with the fire he had earlier, but with banked embers. Drawing back, he held her gaze and gave her a devilish grin. “And maybe I’ll have just a little bit more.”
When he looked at her like that, he was impossible to resist. It was silly to deny the attraction, to put him off when she’d come here that first night fully expecting to lie with a man.
