Page 75 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
“I didn’t trust me. When I fell asleep, I had this dream, you see...” She let her voice trail off.
“Of me bathing you?”
She shook her head. “Of my leaving the tub and sitting on your lap, naked.”
He grinned. “Oh, I very much like that dream. Was I naked as well?”
“No, at least not yet.” She was blushing again, she knew it. “I think you might have gotten there if you hadn’t woken me up.”
“Bad timing then on my part. Perhaps we’ll turn your dream into reality.” He skimmed his fingers along her cheek. “Let me bathe you, princess.”
“It seems a bit decadent.”
“Decadent things are all we’re going to do tonight.”
A shaky shudder escaped as she wound her arms around his neck. “Only if I can bathe you as well. All of you.” She hoped her smile was as saucy as it felt. “I didn’t wash all of you before.”
“You are timid and bold, and I adore both aspects of you.”
Her chest grew so tight she thought it might squeeze her heart until it burst. No man had ever adored her. No, he didn’t adoreher. He adored her timidity and her boldness. Then he took her mouth as though to prove his point, and she could not help but believe that he did in fact adore the entirety of her. Otherwise, how could he stir such sweet sensations within her with so little effort?
His arms came around her, pressing her up against the length of his long, lean body. It felt so marvelous, so right as her breasts strained to be even closer, as her legs wanted to spread wide and cradle him so he was nestled against their sweet juncture where an ache had erupted with a force that nearly dropped her to her knees. She needed this man, needed him desperately.
His hands caressed her back, her hips, her bum, and she hated every stitch of clothing she wore that prevented her from feeling his skin against hers.
Breaking off the kiss, breathing heavily, he held her gaze. “Bath?”
She nodded. “Bath.”
He dispensed with his coat, waistcoat, and neck cloth, tossing each negligently onto a nearby chair, rolled up his sleeves, and together they worked to prepare the bath. A low fire burned in the hearth and steam rose from the water. A lamp on a table by the bed provided the only other light.
He approached her very slowly, reminding her of the tiger they’d seen that afternoon: long, sleek, predatory. The look he gave her from behind half-lowered lids should not have made her tingle all over, should not have made her want to thrust up her breasts and beg him to suckle them. She imagined all the things he could do with that lovely mouth of his.
He stopped in front of her and skimmed the back of his knuckles over her chin. “Do you want me to tell you everything I’m going to do or just do it?”
“Simply do it, and quickly. I feel as though I’m on the verge of dying here.”
He chuckled low, darkly. “Oh, princess, I haven’t even begun to make you feel as though you’re on the verge of dying.”
Lowering his hands, he rubbed his knuckles over her breasts. She’d thought the nipples were already hard, but they hardened further, became tight little balls that seemed to be tethered to her nether regions. She wished she were again wearing trousers and could rub against the seam, for she was in need of some sort of surcease.
“Dear God, you’re like kindling, aren’t you? The lightest of touches and you burn.”
“You’re a powerful match.”
He laughed. “Not certain I’ve ever been called that before.”
“I don’t know how to do this, Thorne. How to be clever and witty and seductive.”
“Sweetheart, you seduced me long ago.”
His words were true, not meant to be flirtatious, not intended to woo. Simply to be honest. He wasn’t certain precisely when she’d seduced him, but she’d managed to do it without airs or heaping praises on him, without coy looks, or batting eyelashes, or pouting lips. She’d done it with her forthrightness that was more seductive and alluring than all the coquettish flirtations cast his way by others.
She possessed a bit of whimsy with her mermaids and unicorns, but she was also steel and determination, running her business in a manner destined to ensure it met with success. Decisions were based on a goal. Although he suspected tonight’s choice had been influenced by the whimsical side of her.
As much as he hated it, he knew there could never be more between them than this. If he were the decent sort he’d walk out. Only no woman had ever looked at him as she did, and he doubted one ever would again. A man was fortunate if once in his life a woman made him feel as though he were a king. She made him feel as though he were so much more.
He had unbuttoned too many bodices to count, but never had his fingers threatened to tremble. He wanted tonight to be perfect for her, to leave her with no regrets. A thousand times he’d imagined her in his bed, in his arms. The material of her blouse parted to reveal cleavage. Tempting cleavage. Then white silk and a purple velvet ribbon, a tiny purple bow.
