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“Good-bye, Smythe,” Sophia called to him. He made quickly for the door and was out it before Sophia could smother a laugh.
“You think this is amusing, do you?” Ashley asked as he spun her around and began to unfasten the back of her gown.
“Goodness, Ashley,” she teased. “I thought you might have some finesse.” She giggled. “Be careful with my gown,” she warned. “It was my grandmother’s.”
“And you looked beautiful in it. But I bet you will look even better out of it.” He laughed. Goodness, he was engaging when he laughed. It made her want to laugh along with him.
When he had her standing in nothing but her chemise, he picked her up in his arms again and started for the stairs. “I’ll use some finesse the second time. Or the third time. Or the fourth.”
Sophia threw her head back and laughed, swinging her feet in the air as he took the stairs two at a time. “Promises, promises,” she teased.
“Whose house is this?” he asked absently as he walked into the bedchamber.
She shrugged as she watched him disrobe. “Grandfather’s hunting lodge,” she said. He tugged off his cravat with no care whatsoever. “Simmons will be angry at you if you destroy all your clothing.”
“These aren’t mine, remember? And Simmons will be overjoyed when he learns that he gets to purchase a brand-new wardrobe for me. And one for the fish as well!” Ashley flung clothing with abandon until he finally stood before her in nothing but his smalls. His gaze was predatory.
“I wish we had a pianoforte so you could play for me,” she said, biting back a grin.
“A time like this and all you can think about is the pianoforte.” He jerked her to him quickly, which made her laugh even more. “I’ll play you like a pianoforte,” he warned as he tilted his head, growled into the side of her neck, and scrubbed her with his bristly evening whiskers.
His hands began to ruche the fabric of her chemise in his fingers, lifting the hem of it higher and higher until he stopped at her hips. He kissed her, a kiss that could have touched her soul if she wasn’t so nervous.
“Are you quite all right?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.
Sophia stepped onto her tiptoes and threaded her hands around his neck and into his hair. “Quite all right, Your Grace. But I’m wondering how much longer you’re going to play with my unmentionables.” She tugged lightly at his hair. “Take it off me, already,” she whispered against his lips.
With a low moan of contentment and a smile, he unthreaded her arms from around him, lifted the chemise over her head, and tossed it to the floor. Then he shoved his smalls down over his hips and stepped out of them. “Does that satisfy you, my duchess?” he asked. His hands crawled deliciously around to cup her bottom, and he yanked her against him.
“Do I look satisfied?” she asked playfully. His steely blue eyes darkened, the centers growing more prominent until his eyes were as dark as the shadowed room where they stood bathed in candlelight.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he crooned.
“Now you plan to wax poetic rather than take me to bed?” she asked.
He picked her up by her bottom, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and he crossed to the bed. He fell onto it, landing on top of her with her legs wrapped around him. His hardness pressed against her heat and she rocked, trying to get closer to him.
“Do you know why I fell in love with you?” he asked, bending his head to take her nipple into his mouth.
“Goodness, Ashley,” she warned. “Let me concentrate on one thing at a time, will you?”
He stopped and lifted his head. “Will you give me grief for the rest of my life?”
She tugged lightly at his hair, pulling him back down to her breast. “Someone has to do it. Everyone else is afraid of the dangerous Duke of Robinsworth.”
“And…” He raised his head. “That. Is. Why. I. Love. You.” He punctuated his words with licks across her nipple.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
He growled low in his throat. “I could eat you in one big bite. I do save those for the noninnocents, you kno
w.”
“So I have heard.” He began to kiss a slow path down her stomach, making it clench in anticipation. “What are you doing?” she asked as his head descended farther and farther.
“Devouring you,” he replied, his voice muffled against her skin.
“Ashley,” she cried as he spread her thighs even wider and settled between them. His thumbs parted her, and he gazed down at her. “Don’t,” she protested, mortified at his perusal. She shoved at his shoulders.
