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She looked to him. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”
“I assure you, I did.”
“No,” she said. “I kissed you.”
“And I kissed you back.”
“Because... you wanted to.”
He nodded. “Very much.”
She gave a little, secret smile at that, one he liked verymuch. Even more when she said softly, “Good. I know I’m quite plain, but . . .”
There were a dozen things he wished to say in reply. But he started with the most important. “Adelaide... who ever told you that you were plain?”
She started at the question and shook her head. “Everyone. No one. No one has ever had to. I know what is beautiful and what is not and... I have other attributes.” He was having trouble finding the words to simultaneously tell her she was wrong and also not have her leave him in that room forever, and she must have taken his pause as encouragement to enumerate her attributes. “I am strong and I am quick and I am clever...”
“You are all of those things,” he allowed. “But you are also...” He paused, searching for the proper description. “...Christ, there is nothing plain about you. You are...magnificent.”
She blushed at the word, dipping her head, and he knew she did not believe him, which left him deeply frustrated. He cupped her face in his hands and said, firmly, “I told you—I do not lie.”
She searched his gaze for a long moment. “And you think I am worth kissing.”
He let out a little disbelieving laugh. “I assure you, Adelaide; there are few things more valuable than kissing you.” He stroked the soft skin of her cheek. How was it that she was so soft? “Right now... I’m not certain there’s anything more valuable than kissing you.” He waited for her to look at him and said, “Shall I prove it?”
“Please,” she whispered, and he grew impossibly harder at the soft word—a wicked temptation that made him resolve to hear it again and again that night.
He began with a kiss, slow and deep, until she sighed and leaned into him, her lovely long fingers tracking up his bare chest, leaving fire in their wake as he lifted her, carrying her to the chair and settling her on his lap. She gasped at the movement, as he lingered at her sweet, fullbottom lip for a moment. A little bite. Delicious. When he released her and met her delighted eyes, he said, “What of this? Do you like this?”
Another little smile, which he kissed quickly from her lips before she said, “I do.” Her long fingers slid over his skin, barely there. “But are you not cold?”
“Christ. No.” He was on fire. Scorched by her. He licked at the place where her neck and shoulder met, where the gold chain she kept hidden in her bodice lay hot against her soft skin, shielding her pulse, strong and fast. Satisfaction thrummed through him at the proof of her response. “And neither are you.”
“No, I am... on fire.”
“Mmm. That,Ilike.” He growled his pleasure and tilted her chin up. “But this game is about whatyoulike.” He pressed his lips to the underside of her jaw, loving the way she shivered in his arms and sank her fingers into his hair.
“This,” she whispered. “I like this.”
He rewarded the confession with a long, lush stroke over her back, pulling her tighter to him before sliding one hand around to the edge of her breast.
They both froze, Henry using all he had to wait for her approval.
Her fingers tightened in his hair and she looked down at him with that secret smile once more—not so secret any longer. Not so demure. A woman who suddenly knew precisely what she wanted. “I think—”
He let his thumb move, a slow slide along the outer swell of her breast.
She gasped, her hand finding his. Holding it firm. Pressing it tight.
“What do you think?” He growled, unable to stop himself. Christ, he wanted this woman.
“I think...” The words trailed off, and he thought he might lose his mind.
And then she moved, her grip tightening. Moving his hand. Using it. Using him.
Putting him where she wanted him.
Where he wanted to be.
