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His gaze, heated and hungering, slid all the way down to her bare feet. “You remind me of that night at cookery school when they made all them sweets—”
“The confectionary class?”
“Yeah.” A smile touched his lips. “A bonbon,” he said. “You look like a little bonbon in paper lace.”
June was so pleased by the compliment, and the way he was looking at her, she felt her toes curl against the floor. It would be all right, she realized. He wasn’t going to jump on her, all rough and hasty, and forget she was even there.
“You’re the finest woman what ever lived, Junie,” he said, turning serious. “You’re dear to me, you are. I know to be loved by a bloke like me ain’t worth much. I wouldn’t expect you to want it. Just know it’s there, is all I’m asking.”
June stared at him in wonder. No fancy words or poetry could have devastated her the way he just had. “I do want it,” she managed to say. “I want a lot of things from you.”
He gave a nod in the direction of the bed. “You want to lie with me, then?”
“Why not,” she said, trying to sound offhand.
Without a word, Mad removed his boots near the door.
June reached behind her back to loosen her corset laces. Methodically she began to unfasten the front, pushing each metal stud out of its loop.
By the time she set the corset over the back of a chair, Mad had gone to the washstand and stripped off his clothes. Without any appearance of haste, he began to wash with soap and a wet sponge.
How could he be so calm?
June had never been so much at the mercy of her nerves. Awkwardly she stood by the bed in her chemise and drawers, unsure where to look or what to do.
She decided to climb onto the mattress and sit. Maybe she should lie down? Should she take the rest of her clothes off?
“Do you want me starkers?” she asked.
Mad’s gaze met hers in the mirror on the washstand. “Is that what you want?”
“How should I know?” she asked irritably. “I’m no bloody expert.”
It came out sharper than she intended, but thankfully he didn’t seem bothered.
“Leave ’em on, then,” he said easily, and dried his back with a sawing motion of a towel.
She would lie down, June decided, and slid her legs beneath the covers. Half curled on her side like a prawn in a stewpan, she waited quietly.
Eventually Mad came to the bed and leaned over her. A stunning sight, at least sixteen stone of naked male, his broad shoulders looming over her. He bent his head and kissed her upper chest and stroked his finger lightly along the lace trim of her chemise.
June couldn’t bear feeling so defenseless. For some reason her throat clenched like she was about to start bawling.
Embarrassed that she was trembling, she said tartly, “Don’t take all day over it, mind you. I’ve got a beef joint to cook, and potatoes to peel.”
One of his kisses eased into a smile. “You should’ve thought of that before you come up here to have your way with me.”
She couldn’t think of a reply, only trembled even harder as he joined her on the bed.
“Don’t you fret about the time,” he said softly. “I’ll fetch a roast sirloin from the cookshop. You’re more important than dinner.”
“So says you.”
“So says I.” His lips wandered along the side of her neck. “You can be soft with me, Junie. You’re safe.”
He wouldn’t let her hide behind sass or bossy words, or any defenses at all. She was as scared as she’d ever been in her life, but she had no choice except to let herself trust him. Just . . . let go.
A few tears did come then, not of sadness but pure relief.
