“Gideon—” Her hand trembled, nearly causing her to spill the brandy.
“So I will understand,Miss Drevenport, if you wish to leave. Perhaps it will give you some sense of justification for any wrong committed against you. You may also say I can’t perform as a man, if you wish, though I think we both know”—he gestured to his cock jutting from between his thighs—“that would be a lie.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away, spilling brandy on herself. She set the glass down before cupping his face between her hands. “I don’t wish to leave you.”
Not ever.
“How long have you known?” she whispered.
“Since I saw you in that crimson dress.” His gaze on her was heated. “But you weren’t ready to tell me or didn’t want to. You needed to prove something to yourself and possibly me as well. I give you permission, Honora, should you need to prove your point, as you did with Tarrington”—his words grew thick—“if it will ease you.”
“I don’t need to, Gideon. I promise.” Bringing his mouth to hers, Honora tried to convey the depth of feeling for him.
Love. That’s what I feel for Gideon.
His arms came around her, embracing her so hard Honora thought her ribs would crack. Gideon kissed her back fiercely. Urgently. As if he’d been starved for her his entire life. Tearing his mouth from hers, he spun her around, attacking the back of her gown, the delicate satin buttons torn off in his haste.
Honora watched in utter fascination as one rolled under the bed. She’d never be able to retrieve it and have it resewn. She arched her back, turning her chin up to view him. “Am I being ravished?”
“Not quite yet.” Mouth hot against her neck, Gideon tugged and pulled until Honora was left in only her chemise and the armor of her corset.
“Goddamnit.” Limping over to the bookcase, Gideon muttered about the difficulty of women’s clothing as he pushed aside a stack of books, uncaring when they tumbled to the floor. Finally he spun back to her with a wicked smile, a small knife in one hand.
“No, Gideon. Wait.” Honora held up her palm. She’d never get her dress back on again without the corset. Bad enough it wouldn’t completely button.
“I hate these things.” He pointed at the corset. “Is this why you’re faint half the time and won’t eat?” He approached her as a hunter does his prey. Raising the knife, he deftly sliced through the strings of her corset.
Honora took a deep gulp of air, looking down in dismay at the remains ofthemost important item of her wardrobe. “It’s necessary for dresses to fit properly. I’m…rounded.”
“Delightfully curvedis the phrase you’re looking for. I happen to adore every inch of you. And I can’t believe you punish yourself in such a way.”
He tore at her chemise as she unsuccessfully tried to push his fingers away.
“You’ll tear it,” she pleaded, though she was secretly enjoying how desperate he was to have her.
“Excellent idea.” Gideon ripped the garment down the front.
Honora made a sigh of distress, wondering how in the world she could return home without a corset and with a torn chemise and a dress missing half its buttons.
“Don’t worry.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “I’ll buy you another. Dozens. Red, I think. I adore you in red.” A big hand cupped her breast, gently rolling the nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Take down your hair,Miss Drevenport.”
“You were the only one who ever addressed me correctly. Did you know that?”
“I know.” He paused and kissed her tenderly. “Now take down your bloody hair.”
Taking a step back, Gideon surveyed her, a large, predatory male, the horrible scars giving him a dangerous, otherworldly look. He was an angry god, perhaps. Or some mythical creature. Her gaze trailed over the graceful curvatures of muscle in his shoulders and arms, all brushed with dark hair. The sharp lines of his hips, the left still discernible beneath the scars.
Lowering her eyes, Honora pulled the pins struggling to hold back the unruly mass of her hair, her fingers stilling as she looked,really looked, at Gideon’s…cock.
Oh dear.Culpepper had been deficient in more ways than one. “No wonder Anabeth popped out at you in her underthings.” She kicked off her slippers before bending to take off her stockings, using her hair to shield the curves of her body.
“No,” he growled. “Leave them on.” Gideon took a backward step toward the bed and held out his hand. “Come here to me.”
“Might we dim the lamp?” It was rather daunting to stand here before him, all her curves on display, with only her hair as protection.
“No, we may not. I want to see all of you. As you have seen all of me. Don’t you believe in fairness, sweetheart? Besides, you’re bloody gorgeous.”
“I am always fair.” Honora took a deep breath and shook out her hair, delighting in the way Gideon watched the heavy black curls fall over her shoulders. She had never felt so beautiful, so wanted, in all her life. Coming forward, she gasped as his hand splayed possessively across her stomach before he cupped her mound.
