He allowed her to divest him of it. “Fashion never had tostand about with a randy cock while having to suffer through a thousand buttonskeeping him from the woman he desires.”
She stilled, her eyes meeting his again. “Surely the otherwomen you’ve known have worn just as many buttons as I, if not more.”
Her words gave him pause, because damn her, irritating asher insights often proved to be, she was once again right. He hadn’t ever beenso irritated by trappings and buttons. True, those women had often been at theready. But during the times when they had not been, what then? He had attendedcountless soirees and balls with Eleanor when she had been buttoned andcorseted to perfection. Still, he’d never once been so frustrated, so eager toundo her every outward show of propriety.
What was it about Maggie that turned him into a raveningmadman consumed by lust? Christ, if only she were still the cowering naïve girlof their wedding day. It all would have been so much easier. But so much lessdelicious.
“I don’t give a damn about them,” he told her at last, ashis mind worked its way through the havoc she wreaked upon him. “The only womanI want is you.”
Her gaze remained on his, demanding and haunting at the sametime. He wanted to blink, hide. He didn’t know what she wanted from him. Worse,he was afraid he couldn’t give her whatever it was she desired, beyond a meremating of their bodies.
“And you are the only man I want, Simon,” she said, all butbringing him to his knees with her soft, wonderful revelation.
The only.He had placed a great deal of importance onthose very words. Eleanor had not. But he didn’t want to dither now, worryingabout what could not be undone. She was his past. Maggie was his present. Apresent he had never imagined himself wanting, but his present nonetheless. Andlooking back over all he’d done, he could honestly tell himself he would notwish for a different outcome.
She was incredible. His. For the month. An entire month?What the bloody hell had he been thinking? And then a secret voice piped upwithin him, brushing aside his rational mind. How would it ever be enough? Hedidn’t want to feel this mad pull he felt for her, but it was as if she hadcast a spell on him.
“To hell with your fripperies,” he muttered, his hands goingto her corset cover. He had no more patience for fastenings. He tore the wholedamn thing apart, delighting in the sound of destruction. The unveiling of hercorset gave him pause. It was canary yellow, trimmed in seductive black lace.“Yellow?”
She flushed, lowering her gaze. “I couldn’t resist.”
“I’m glad,” he admitted through a thick throat. The colorsomehow complemented her bold features to perfection. He wouldn’t have thoughtit, but the vibrancy of the yellow coupled with her pale skin and bright hairwas astoundingly beautiful. He reached behind her, fingers unerringly findingthe laces of her corset and loosening them. “You continually surprise me,Maggie.”
“Just as you have surprised me,” she countered. Her fingerswent to the hook-and-eye fastenings of her corset, undoing the bottom pairfirst. A small patch of her white chemise was visible beneath the restrictivegarment.
His mouth went dry as he thought of how few layers thereremained between them. “Allow me,” he urged, putting his hands atop hers.
“You needn’t play lady’s maid,” she denied, moving to thenext set of closures.
“I’m not playing,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Allow me,Maggie.” He couldn’t explain it himself, but it was as if he sought to dopenance for the year he had acted as if she hadn’t existed in his world. Hewanted very much to make her his in a way he had not previously experiencedduring his relationships with other women. Maggie was somehow different, and ittroubled him but he couldn’t resist her. Not for a moment. This would be thefirst time he made love to her knowing she was his wife, and he was struck bythe importance. Once, he never would have believed such a night would exist.
“Very well.” She held her arms to the side. “I am yours.”
Damn it, her words made him so aroused that he nearly losthis ability to function. He coughed to disguise his distraction and set hishands to work on her elaborate trimmings. “You are so very beautiful,” he said,unable to help himself.
“I am?” She sounded surprised.
He searched her face for a sign of prevarication but foundnone. She truly didn’t seem to know the full extent of her womanly power. “Ofcourse you are,” he told her, his hands at work upon the fastening of herskirts. They were at her back and naturally brought his arms about her, theirmouths once more close together. He couldn’t resist a deep, earth-moving kissbefore breaking it off for sanity’s sake. “You must know that.”
She appeared dazed, running her pink tongue over her fulllips. “I know nothing of the sort. If I were so lovely, surely you would neverhave thrown me over at the first possible opportunity.”
He winced. It was only fair, he supposed, that his pasttreatment of her would not be altogether forgotten. He had been a bastard. Hehadn’t thought of her as a person but rather as a pawn, a way for him to repaythe debts that his father had left behind, debts that had continued to mountover the passing years. That she could even allow him to touch her at all wasan amazing feat of her understanding. He wished there was something he couldsay to absolve his sins, but this was so very new to him.Shewas new tohim.
“You are unbearably lovely,” he affirmed through a throatgone suddenly thick. He realized he needed to open the closure on her skirtbefore he could proceed. His fingers traveled round her waist, but he couldn’tfind the hidden prize he sought. “I can’t open your damn skirts.”
She laughed, brushing him aside to find the opening herself.As she released them, her skirts pooled on the floor with a swish of silk. Shestood before him in her chemise and corset and petticoats, her bustle pad anodd skeleton clinging to what he knew to be a lush bottom.
“You’re not being fair,” she said softly, her violet eyestraveling the length of his body and lingering—unless he was mistaken—on hiscock.
He swallowed. “What do you mean?” Christ, he hoped shedidn’t want to engage in a lengthy debate of some sort. All he could thinkabout was tearing the remaining coverings from her full breasts and losinghimself in the inviting wet folds of her cunny.
“You’re still wearing all your evening finery, and I’ve beenreduced to the rubble of my ladylike trappings.” She smiled hesitantly,reaching beneath his black jacket and helping him to shuck it from hisshoulders.
Ah, so the lady wanted to be bold. Perhaps she was intentupon making him embarrass himself by coming before he even removed his clothes.Her tentative caresses, even through a layer of fabric, were nearly enough toundo him. “How kind of you to remedy the situation,” he said gruffly, trying tohide the tumultuous feelings at war within him. He felt very much like a boatat sea taking on water.
His coat joined her skirt on the floor. She began working onhis tie next, fumbling with a lack of familiarity. He couldn’t blame her, forwithout his manservant, he was deuced hard put to disrobe himself. He attemptedto help her and the result was only more confusion. Their eyes met and theyshared a laugh. He leaned in and kissed her. The moment was so awkward and yetso tender, so familiar. It was as comforting as it was arousing. He had toadmit that he’d never indulged in a mutual session of disrobing with anotherwoman. He found he rather enjoyed the intimacy, the shared commitment tolovemaking that it signified.
She kissed him back, her mouth opening to his questingtongue. Her hands sank into his hair in that way she had that he alreadyrecognized and loved. His mouth worked over hers, perhaps harder than it oughtto, but he couldn’t seem to rein himself in. She did things to him, powerfulthings that were as impossible as they were undeniable. Had it only been twodays ago that he hadn’t been bothered to even think of her existence in hislife? It seemed a lifetime ago instead.
