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His lips twitched. “I’m highly motivated.”

She undid her neckcloth. “I never said I was sleeping with you today.”

He gripped the bottom of his shirt and cocked a brow. “Seeing you naked is plenty motivation all in itself, Miss Dawson.”

Then he pulled his shirt over his head, and she forgot how to breathe. Oh no. Oh no no no.

He was beautiful.

Before she could comprehend what her foolish body was doing, she was touching him. Palms sliding over hard, hot flesh. Fingers pressing. Nails digging in. “Oh my God,” she said faintly. “You… You are supposed to be soft. You are supposed to have the body of a leisurely lord.”

His muscles rippled beneath her fingertips, and her blood heated. He gripped her wrist and slid her palm up, through coarse curling hair until her hand rested over his pec. His very meaty, very built pec. He flexed.

She whimpered. “You would have convinced me much faster if you’d just walked around shirtless, Your Grace.”

“Have you changed your mind about sleeping with me today?”

Theo let her hand fall away, and she took a step back. For preservation purposes. She lifted her chin and met him head-on as she slowly pulled her shirt free from her trousers. “Not yet, Your Grace. But perhaps if you lost more clothing, I might.” Then she pulled her shirt over her head. Tit for tat.

He stayed rooted to the spot, gaze raking over her. Scalding and sinful all at once. She drew in a deep breath, her half-stays much more constricting than usual under the weight of his stare. His gaze snapped to her bosom. Those stormy eyes darkened, his throat bobbing in a swallow.

She walked up to him, pressed a hand to his iron stomach, and gently guided him backward toward her sofa. “Sit.”

He obeyed her. Eyes searching hers. Curious.

She knelt. His nostrils flared. She held out her hand, and he dutifully gave her his boot. She tugged it off. “You don’t have a valet.” She tugged the other off. She’d heard the servants talk—mostly Perry. It was very odd for a duke to go without a valet.

“My butler in London assists me when needed. Otherwise…no.”

She stood, wiping her hands on her trousers. And then she was yanked unceremoniously forward. A highly embarrassing squeak fled her, and her hands shot to his shoulders, her breasts crashing into his face. She quickly leaned back, a blush soaring over her skin. She was now straddling his lap. Dear heavens.

His lips tilted in what one might call a smile. The first she’d ever seen from him. His arm snaked around her, hand wrapping tight around her ankle, and then he tugged off her boot with his other hand. Then he repeated the action on the other side.

“There,” he whispered. “You did mine. I did yours.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heartbeat a constant thrum behind her breastbone. “A very sensible way to go about things.”

“And you are nothing if not sensible, Miss Dawson.”

“Exactly.”

His fingers trailed along the waistband of her trousers. Dipped just below the fabric before going back to sliding along the edge. “Am I correct in my assumption that you’re not a virgin?”

She tilted her head and studied him. She didn’t see any recrimination in his gaze. She didn’t see much of anything at all. He did so well at keeping his face expressionless. Just a hard jaw, a brooding heavy brow, grimly set mouth, and that intriguing scar. “Yes, you are.”

His jaw ticked. Hmm. A small sign of emotion.

“I am not currently…involved with anyone. And the exclusivity clause in your contract is one I’d like to keep.”

He nodded slowly.

She trailed a hand down his chest, down his abs, and through the small trail of hair below his belly button until she got to the buttons of his trousers. She popped one free. “I assume you are as far from a virgin as one can get.” She popped another button. “So, my question for you is…” Her gaze locked on his. “Are you free of disease, Your Grace?” She braced herself. She knew from experience that not all men appreciated that question. But it wasn’t a risk Theo was willing to take.

“I am. And I have a condom in my waistcoat pocket.”

Her brows flew up, and she shot him a look. “Presumptuous.”

He cocked one back. “One might say it’s sensible. To always be prepared.”