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He hesitated. “I’m not adept with those things.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
He hadn’t been joking about his ineptitude. As he plucked at the hooks and wrestled with the buttons, Mary was strangely encouraged. It was comforting to know he hadn’t amassedtoomuch practice disrobing women.
Once he had the back of her gown undone, the tapes of her petticoats unknotted, and the laces of her stays untied, he stepped back a few paces. “There you are. I’ll step out into the corridor while you—”
“Don’t be silly.”
She turned around, hastily shoving her gown and petticoats to the floor, and setting aside her corset. She stepped out from the mound of silk and crinoline, standing before him in only a lacy, light blue chemise. One she’d taken in at the seams an inch here and there, so that it clung to her breasts and hugged her hips.
Mary pulled the pins from her hair one by one, then shook out her upsweep with a sensuous toss of her head. A motion that not coincidently pushed her breasts high.
She’d come this far. She might as well be completely shameless. Neither wifely homemaking or romantic dinners had succeeded in changing his mind. She had only one strategy left: seduction.
And she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
His reaction wasn’t quite what she’d been hoping for. He frowned at her body as though it were an arithmetic problem he couldn’t solve.
“What is it? Don’t you like what you see?”
“I can’t say that I do, not entirely. You’re a vision of beauty, but you’re standing there in a negligee meant for your honeymoon with another man.”
“Oh, is that the problem?”
She slipped the chemise over her shoulders and drew her arms out of the sleeves. The garment dropped to the floor in a lacy puddle.
“There,” she said. “No more negligee. Problem solved.”
Chapter 9
No, Sebastian thought to himself.
No, his problem was definitely not solved. His problem was growing by the moment, hardening against the placket of his trousers.
“Don’t play games,” he warned, keeping his distance a few paces away. “If you don’t truly want this…”
“I want this.” She crossed to him, reached for his hand, and placed it on her breast. “I want you.”
That was it.
Restraint, depleted. Argument, over. Decision, made.
There was only so much temptation a man could take from the woman who’d been the center of his every torrid fantasy. If she wanted him, she was going to get him. Every last, aching inch.
He grabbed her by the backside and lifted her straight off the floor so that her legs wrapped around his hips. Then he carried her toward the bed.
“Wait,” she said. “Are you sure it will hold us?”
In answer, he simply tumbled with her onto the mattress. She tensed and held her breath.
When the bed didn’t collapse, he arched an eyebrow in chastisement. “You know, you should have a little more faith in your husband.”
“You’re right. In the future, I will.”
“Good.”
She didn’t need to know that the bed was now sturdy because he’d followed her instructions. He’d keep that to himself.
