A riot of desire skittered through her. That nod had led them places in the past.
No. That wouldn’t do.
She mustn’t let her body rule her head.
She wrapped herself in righteous umbrage and shot to her feet in an exasperated shush of silk skirts, grabbing the candlestick to her right and purposefully striding to the French doors dividing the sitting room from the bedroom. She pulled them wide.
“Well, then, there is no help for it. You must play the part,” she called over her shoulder. “Unbutton my dress.”
Chapter 4
All-a-mort: Struck dumb, confounded.
A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue
Francis Grose
“Unbutton your dress?” Nick repeated. It wasn’t possible he’d heard those words in that order.
“Yes,” she called out, confirming his worst fear.
A nascent feeling of horror unfurled within him. Mariana had always been a provocative woman, which was precisely why he hadn’t spent time alone with her in a decade. Her ability to upset his equilibrium remained absolute and effortless.
Still, he couldn’t resist the pull toward her. He rose, and a few hesitant strides had him at the threshold of the bedroom, the vision of her propped against a bedpost before him. Mirroring her insouciant stance, he balanced a noncommittal shoulder against the doorjamb.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he protested . . . weakly. If pressed, his flimsy shred of resistance would give way to whatever wish she voiced.
“Have you spent a single minute of your life bound within layers of corset, shift, and tightly buttoned dress? Has this ever been required for one of yourspymissions?”
He couldn’t miss the scorn in her voice. “Never.”
“Then you’ll have to trust me when I suggest that it’s a bloody fantastic idea for you to unbutton me. You’ve done it before, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t,” he said, his voice incapable of more than a low, gravelly rumble.
She blinked, and a moment passed. “You’re the one who dismissed Hortense. Even if she is a spy, she’s also my lady’s maid.”
As if to illustrate her seriousness, Mariana swiveled around and braced her hands on the bedpost, readying herself for him.
Readying herself for him?
Reason bade Nick exit the room, locate Hortense, and abandon the entire proposition. Under no circumstance should he close the distance between them and place his hands on Mariana’s body. Paper thin layers of chartreuse silk and muslin between his fingers and her skin wouldn’t be enough.
A few quick steps could carry him to her. A few quick steps could undo him.
His eyes swept down the length of gown draped elegantly across her body as if it had been sewn onto her. A brief count yielded fifteen glimmering, jet buttons racing down the ridge of her spine.Fifteen. With any other man and woman, this would be the scene of a seduction. A simple assenting nod of her head was all it would take for them to become those two other people with no past and no future—only tonight.
Except he and she weren’t that man and woman. Not with their history.
He shook his head to clear it, lest he forget the mission that had brought him to this room tonight. Before him stood an opportunity, and in the world of espionage, one didn’t spurn opportunity. One seized it. Second chances were rare and unreliable.
Somewhat fortified, he closed the requisite distance. The heat from her body mingled with his and enveloped them in a cocoon uniquelythem. A bead of perspiration trickled down the hollow of his spine.
Oh, no, he hadn’t forgotten what it was like to undress Mariana. A heartbeat later, he took the top button between thumb and forefinger. Smooth muscles contracted across her back, resulting in a slight arch just above her derriere. Impossible she didn’t feel this implacable tension, too. The certainty didn’t make his task any easier. Only a blindfold would.
The tiny button slipped its silken loop. Only fourteen more to go. He cleared his throat. “Mariana?” Her name came out on a rasp barely loud enough to stir the quiet stretch of air between his mouth and her neck. Beneath his fingertips, he felt her breath suspend in anticipation of his next words. He flicked the second and third buttons free in quick succession. “I have a proposition for you.”
At last, he was speaking the words he should have spoken the moment she’d entered the sitting room. He was here in a professional capacity, not as a husband and certainly not as a lover.
