He went still as stone. “I cannot have heard you correctly.”
The boldness that had pushed her desire from her mouth didn’t relent. “Shall I repeat myself?”
He gave his head a bemused shake, breaking the moment. He pivoted and returned to his hammer and chisel. He wasn’t taking her seriously.
She could stamp her foot with frustration, but that would only reinforce his assessment that she was spoilt and didn’t know her own mind, like a child. So, she sat and steamed and stewed in her humiliation as it settled in that she’d propositioned a duke—a duke!—to strip nude for her. The sultry Italian air must’ve been having an effect.
“AndIwant to sculptyou,” he said. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
What an odd thing for him to say. “Youaresculpting me.”
He shrugged, and his eyes narrowed on the marble before him. “All of you.”
“All of me?”
Oh.
“Allof me.”
“But that isn’t done with members of polite society.”
Polite.Never in her life had she taken issue with the word polite.
Never before now.
Further, she didn’t particularly care for the way he was throwing that word at her. Hadn’t she just been impolite?
She should storm off in a huff, but it struck her that she’d started this impolite conversation and every fiber in her being wanted to follow where it led.
“How much isallof me?” she asked.
His gray gaze caught hers and held it. “Every line. Every curve. Every inch.”
Oh, she felt hot…sohot. And her breath. It’d caught in her throat. “I can’t imagine my lines and curves are all that different from any other woman’s lines and curves.”
“My imagination is telling me otherwise.”
His imagination…
He’d been imagining her…
Her lines and curves…
Every inch of her body.
The very blood in her veins coursed hot, and her skin felt…excitable. As if one touch from him would cause an explosion.
He was ten feet away, and yet he made her feel so…
“You want to sculpt me”—the next word had trouble escaping her mouth—“nude.”
“Yes.”
No longer did his manner convey disinterest or nonchalance. He’d gone completely and utterly intense. Still, she detected a glimmer of distance, of distrust. He didn’t think for an instant that she would agree. He thought he had her. Maybe he did, because how could she…
Except…
How badly did she want it? How badly did she want to defy his expectations of her?
