Page 49 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
“Pardon?”
She jerked her gaze up to his, saw the question there. Without thinking, she’d made a mistake, might have revealed herself had she said more. “I was at Lady Greyling’s when she welcomed you all back. I heard his tales, saw your photographs. They were the reason I changed my mind about posing for you.”
“We didn’t speak there. I would have remembered. Your voice is quite distinctive.”
She released a slow breath of relief. “I’m a wallflower at events such as that.”
“More’s the pity. And it seems my scars have dampened the mood. Climb on the bed. I’ll see to the rest.”
“I don’t find them hideous. They’re a symbol of courage.”
“More arrogance than courage. When captured by their beauty, I find it easy to forget that jungle creatures are wild.” He held her chin, kissed her. “I’m anxious to discover how wild a creature you might be. Get on the bed.”
Not so wild since she hesitated at the thought of removing his trousers. She gave a curt nod. As she clambered onto the satin sheets, aware of the tinkling of chains at her ankle, he began going around the bedstead, loosening the ties. The heavy velvet swung effortlessly into place, slowly enclosing her in the darkness.
Sitting there, she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and listened to the muffled tread of his footsteps as he went around theroom, no doubt extinguishing candle flames. She heard the thud of a boot dropping, then another. Straining her ears, she listened to the rasp of cloth as he shucked his trousers, but suddenly all was silent, all was quiet.
“Is the mask gone?”
She startled at the deepness of his voice, just on the other side of curtain. “Are your trousers?”
“They are.”
She could have sworn she heard a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Come on, V, I’m dying to ravish you.”
Taking a deep breath, she reached back and loosened the ribbons that held her disguise in place. Stretching out on her knees, she set it in a corner at the foot of the bed. Surely it would be safe there.
“I’m ready,” she said softly.
The darkness parted to reveal deep shadows. She barely made out the form of a large man. The bed moaned as he climbed onto the mattress, the drapes closing behind him.
Snaking an arm around her, he drew her flush against him, flesh to flesh, from shoulder to toes, the heated length of him pressed hard against her belly. Unerringly, his mouth captured hers, and he plundered.
SHE’D almost given herself away. He’d almost told her that he knew who she was. But for whatever reason, she needed the secrecy, didn’t trust him with the truth. Although at that moment, rakehell that he was, he cared only that she trusted him with her body.
Ashe intended to ensure she had no regrets on that score.
He cursed the blasted darkness. He’d wanted to do more than lightly trail a finger over her skin when she was bared to him, but he’d known that if he cupped a perfectly formed breast, pinched a pale pink nipple, buried his fingers in the curls between her thighs that he’d have not been able to hold himself in check. That he would have tossed her on the bed and had his way with her then and there.
But he’d wanted the damnable mask gone.
So now there was nothing to interfere with his enjoying her completely. Thrusting his hand into her thick, curling hair, he held her head in place while he thoroughly kissed every nook and cranny of her mouth. She tasted of wine and strawberry, decadence and desire. And she didn’t hold back. She was exploring his mouth with equal measure, her fingers digging into his shoulders, his back. She was a match for any man, and some faulted her for it. More the fools were they. Her enthusiasm was unrivaled, her eagerness incomparable. And he’d almost turned her away for being a virgin.
More the fool would he have been.
But then he’d spoken to her at Greyling’s, been intrigued. A woman who knew her own mind, a woman of daring and courage and candor. Well, perhaps not all candor. She wouldn’t reveal her identity. As much as he wished she would, he understood her hesitation. What was happening between them now would be frowned upon by polite Society. While she claimed she wouldn’t marry, if her visits to the Nightingale were discovered, marriage would absolutely no longer be an option. She would be an outcast, not even welcomed into ballrooms or parlors.
So he didn’t blame her for her caution. He would hold her secrets. All of them. Each one that he was uncovering.
The softness of her skin as he dragged his hand along her spine. The round firmness of her bottom as he cupped and squeezed it. The way her breast filled his palm as he cradled it. The sensitivity of the area just below her ear as he kissed it. Her sweet moan as she pressed her body more firmly into his. The hard peak of her nipple as his tongue circled it before he closed his mouth around it. The echo of her sighs, the feel of her sole rubbing his calf. The hot dew that coated his fingers as he tested her readiness.
Bracketing his hands on either side of her ribs, he buried his face between the pliant mounds of her bosom. He hated the thought of causing her any discomfort.
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Ashe?”
“Are you certain you’ll have no regrets?”
