Page 56

“You’re only twenty-eight.”

“That’s old enough,” he said. “Since then I’ve come to realize that it’s far better to pursue a lady’s pleasure rather than try to impress her with such distractions. But since you don’t believe me . . .”

He pushed her skirts to her knees now, folding the fabric back on itself as best he could. She should tell him—he was going to find out anyway—but she hadn’t wanted this game to stop.

His fingers crept up higher, searching for the top of her stocking. Her breath came in full pants now, ragged and raw. If anyone happened upon them and saw what he was doing to her . . .

But no one would. They were alone on this island, save for Mr. McDonald. And besides, she was Gavin’s wife.

She knew the moment he hit the top of her stockings, because his fingers stopped their progress.

“Ina?”

“Mmmm . . . ?”

He pushed the fabric higher, exposing more of her, and then looked up. “You’re not wearing garters.”

A grin split her face. “I’m not.”

“But how—?”

His fingers played over the steel clips at the top of her stockings and up the grosgrain ribbons that stretched up the top of her thighs.

“They’re sewn into the bottom of my corset,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level and matter-of-fact.

His hand stilled. “Is that so?”

“It’s a new design. I understand the French are fond of it.”

He exhaled and flattened his palms against the top of her thighs. “I never thought I’d say this, but God bless the French.”

He hadn’t stopped touching her despite finding out she’d tricked him. That, she prayed, was a good sign.

“If you knew we couldn’t declare a winner, why make the wager at all?” he asked.

“I wanted to see if you’d do it,” she said softly.

His lips were just inches from hers when he asked, “Is that the only reason?”

Her mouth went dry. The decision was hers. If she gave voice to her desires, there would be no denying them later. Her longing for him would be out in the open.

But then his might be too.

“I wanted you to touch me,” she whispered.

And then she kissed him. A soft kiss. One laced with persuasion and permission. Trust and faith.

A moan rumbled in the back of his throat, and all at once Ina came undone. Her hand slipped into his thick hair that brushed the back of his neck and she pulled him deeper into the kiss. Her other arm played along the hard muscles of his back. He tilted his head to angle his mouth and kiss her deeper. She opened for him, relishing the urgency with which he pulled and sucked her lips. When he used his teeth, she gasped.

“Ina,” he groaned.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured against his lips, pulling him to her, but he resisted.

“We agreed we wouldn’t do this.”

“It was an impossible promise to keep,” she said.

She knew she was being reckless. She couldn’t watch Gavin turn back into the quiet, retiring husband who’d avoided her company, but she couldn’t suppress her yearning for him either. She’d indulge and then figure out what to do with their odd marriage. Later.