“You may take care of the rest,” she said as she dropped it behind her.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He scraped his knuckles up her sides, and relished the flutter of her pulse and the gooseflesh that rose in the wake of his touch.
Cadoc wanted to map and catalog every inch of her, above the cotton and below it.
“Do you have any affection for this shift?” He asked as he fingered the shapeless collar.
“No, it is the oldest one in my closet and due for replacement.”
“Exactly what I hoped you’d say.”
He grasped the edges of her collar again and tore it. The fabric was nearly threadbare and ripped easily, baring her to him.
She was smirking. “Now I’ll have to fashion something to go beneath my corset.”
“We’ll make do. I’ll steal one of my sister’s if I need to - the house is less than a quarter mile from the schoolhouse.”
“My dishabille won’t require such drastic measures. All of my sisters but Vin are elsewhere, and she is supremely aware of our wager.”
“Then I have your permission to dispose of this in a similar fashion?” He tapped her petticoats and crinoline.
She shook her head. “No, these aren't as easily replaced. I’ll divest them myself.”
He stepped away so he would have the memory of her fingers working efficiently over her remaining undergarments. When she kicked them aside he raised a hand- bading her to let him absorb what she’d revealed.
She clasped her arms over her breasts and imperiously tilted her chin.
Dusk had fallen, and the soft amber light gilded her in shadow. It rippled over her like silk and his breath caught in his throat.
She was arrestingly perfect, a study in contrasts. Her hair was half undone, and snaked over her shoulders and chest - a deep mahogany waterfall. She had a habit of biting her nails, and the pale pink crescents were nearly translucent against her rosyskin. Her eyes were hooded, the hazel gleam hidden beneath the dark sweep of her lashes.
“You are utter perfection, dragonfly. Crafted to drive a man to drink with longing. Or purgatory.”
“It’s merely a thing of science and natural order,” she protested.
“You are not merely anything,” he said as he crept closer once more.
When he lifted his hand to the mahogany waterfall that had held him transfixed, it trembled slightly. When he tangled his fingers in one of the wayward strands of her hair, he felt her tremble in response. She bit her lip, and the vivid pink left behind was irresistible.
His mouth landed softly on hers. A quest and a farewell. He knew he needed to make this vision of her enough, that she had won the wager and he was letting her go.
His tongue stroked against hers and when he clasped her hips to draw her closer, her hands fell away. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and he could feel the heat of their tips raking over him. He knew they’d become abraded, and even rosier, where they slid through the mat of dark hair that curled over his torso.
He still wore his trousers and she set her hands to the waistband.
The sudden banging on the door jolted them apart, and as she only just managed to lift her discarded blouse to shield her body when St. Simon came crashing through the door. Cadoc briefly resolved to install a better deadbolt on the schoolhouse door before turning to face their intruder.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you to leave her unscathed,” St. Simon thundered as he strode toward them.
His fist landed against Cadoc’s temple and Jess gasped.
“No, Thaddeus. It’s what I want.”
St. Simon turned to her in fury. “It may be what you want, Jess. But he’s taken advantage of you and he’ll do the right thing. He’ll be made to do the right thing,” the man muttered as he turned back to Cadoc.
“I don’t care what your intentions have been toward my sister-in-law, Morgan. But I’ll tell you what they are now. You will wed her. You’ve ruined her and you’ll face the consequences of it.”
