She didn’t know what she had expected. Maybe derision for her shameless conduct of calling on a gentleman for what could only be considered an assignation. But the butler bowed with the utmost courtesy and guided her to the very back of the house to a glass jewel box of a room.
Shaped as an octagon, the sunroom had been transformed into a creative haven. Sunlight streamed through the domed glass ceiling, casting a golden glow across the room. The glass panels, which stretched from floor to ceiling, offered an uninterrupted view of the lush greenery outside. The air carried the earthy scent of clay and the faint, sharp tang of marble dust.
Thalia’s mouth hung open as she scanned the magnificent room. Nearby, a large, heavy-duty easel held a clay bust in progress. By the windows, a long, sturdy workbench was filled with the tools of the trade. Chisels, hammers, and mallets lay neatly organized, while in the center of the room, occupying pride of place, a chaise draped in soft, rich fabrics looked like a perfect place for models to pose in the natural light. Would she expect her to lounge there?
“At last, you are here. I’ve been expecting you for hours.”
She whipped around at the sound of the marquess’s voice. He had snuck behind her with a stealth that should not be possible for a man his size.
“Excuse me, my lord, but you did not mention when you expected me to arrive. This is the proper time for a morning call.”
“It’s afternoon. We are losing daylight.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he turned to the butler. “Send tea and then order the staff not to disturb me for any reason unless it’s an emergency.”
“At once, my lord.” The butler withdrew with a bow.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you always this high-handed?”
“Always,” he said, pulling her against his body. “Next time, don’t keep me waiting. I’ve been burning for you.”
With that, he captured her mouth in an incendiary kiss that sent a wave of heat through her body. Her legs gave way, and she grasped at his shoulders while his arm around her waist tightened to help keep her upright. When he had reduced her to the consistency of soft butter, his mouth skated across her face to whisper in her ear.
“I’ve got new sheaths.”
And she melted anew.
The servant bearing the tea tray came in, and he released her slowly while she turned around and tried to cool her flaming cheeks.
“Now, where were we?” he said, coming up and embracing her from behind.
“You were about to sculpt me?” she suggested with a quiver in her voice.
“Hmm, yes. I do need to work you with my chisel.” He punctuated his double entendre by pressing his hardness againstthe small of her back. “But before that...we need to take care of something.”
There was a tug on her buttons, and her bodice sagged.
“What are you doing?” she hissed and tried to turn around. His hold on her clothes kept her firmly in place.
“Isn’t that obvious? I’m divesting you of these ghastly garments.”
“You can’t undress me here! This room is made of glass.”
“I’m aware. It’s why I selected it as my study. It allows the light in.”
“But it also means that anybody can see in,” she said through her teeth.
“There’s nobody in my garden. I have prohibited access to it while I’m working in my studio.”
“It will feel as if we are naked outside.”
“Mmmm, what a delightful prospect. In Tuscany, I once participated in a naked picnic.”
Her gasp was a mixture of shock and arousal. “With other people?”
His laugh was rich as he kissed down her back, lavishing the skin he had uncovered.
“There was only one other person. A certainsignorina.The picnic started as a normal one, but the sun was scalding. We had to remove some clothes to cool off, you see.”
“Of course,” her voice held a hint of sarcasm as she turned around to face him.
