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Shrugging, he settled upon the sofa. She’d thought it might be easier to summon the courage with him seated and in some ways it did. His long legs were spread apart, his elbows set upon his knees. His confused expression made her want to kiss it away. And she would. If she could just get her voice past her hard thudding heart.
Perhaps actions were easier than words.
She started with her hair, setting aside her bonnet, and pulling the flowered comb from it, followed by several pins. Only when she moved to pull away her fichu, tugging it loose from the tight band of her gown, did Blake straighten.
“Demeter, what are you—?”
She tossed it aside and saw his throat bob when she started on the buttons at the front of her bodice.
“Sweeting.” The endearment came out tremulous.
“I had a lover, you know.”
His eyes widened. She paused mid-button. How awful it would be to be semi revealed to him and for him to flee at the news. But he remained, as she’d hoped he would.
“Demeter, why are you telling me this?”
“So you will not refuse me.” She gave a half-smile.
He smirked. “I find it hard to refuse you anything.”
“You already tried to send me away.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman for the first time in my life,” he replied tightly.
“You are a gentleman, Blake. I know that.”
“There are many who would disagree with you.”
“I’m not going to pander to your ego,” she told him and his smirk grew then fled when she flicked open more buttons.
He rose swiftly and put a hand to hers. “Good Lord, Demeter, not here!”
She stilled, considered the windows looking out onto the road. “Where is your bedchamber?” she demanded.
“I—” Hesitation shadowed his usually confident posture then he took her hand. “This way.”
Demeter hoped he had discreet servants. He ought to considering the rakish life he led. The butler had made himself scarce, perhaps aware where this was leading as Blake led her to a masculine room dominated by a dark canopied bed. She motioned to the bed, her tongue feeling too thick in her mouth to voice the command for him to sit. The interruption had almost cost her her courage.
Almost.
Releasing a long audible breath, Blake slid onto the bed and leaned back, spreading his arms across the pillows. It took all her willpower not to step forward and kiss him furiously. However, she needed the time to explain—to them both. She couldn’t leave, not without this, but her mind needed to catch up with the demands of her body.
“I had a lover,” she continued, “last Season.”
His jaw worked but he remained silent.
“Being a wallflower was becoming tiring and I was envious of my sisters. Cassie had married and Chastity was falling in love with Valentine. I wanted to experience...something I suppose.”
“I see.”
With all the buttons loose, she shucked her gown off her shoulders, grateful she had not chosen a more complex one to wear today. Blake’s gaze tracked her movements as she shoved it down her hips and let it pool to the floor. She shivered though the room was not cold nor were her undergarments particularly thin. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her shift and Blake’s gaze lingered there, hot and desirous. Her stomach swirled and between her legs tingled.
Her stays came next after a fight with the laces. She saw Blake’s legs twitch and she suspected he either wanted to aid or stop her. She prayed he did not want to stop her or else her courage might fail. For so long she’d been the wallflower, vanishing until no one noticed her. Today, however, she wanted Blake’s attention entirely on her.
“It was a mistake,” she admitted. “He made promises that I thought perhaps I wanted fulfilled.”
“Bastard,” Blake muttered.
