There was the slightest question in the last phrase and, by way ofanswer, Beth raised a hand to touch his face. So that quotation hadn’tbeen an insult. “I am not quite sure I see the logic in that, my lord,”she said lightly, over the staccato of her heartbeats and the singing ofher nerves.
He turned his head to kiss her palm again. “In my state, you expectlogic,ma chere?”
“Oh.” She understood what he meant. She seemed to be reduced toincoherence herself.
“I think,” he said, smiling, “I will see how many times I can make yousay, ‘oh.’ ”
She expected to be kissed, but he traced her lips with a delicatefinger, leaving them tingling, hungry.
Then he licked his finger and traced them again.
“Ohhh.”
He smiled as he slowly unbuttoned her nightgown and slipped his fingersto nestle between her breasts. She waited for his hand to move over abreast, rub a nipple as he had that evening; waited in shudderingexpectation for that deep, stirring excitement, welcome now.
He leaned forward and sucked softly on her earlobe.
“Ohhhh.” It was a long-drawn-out moan.
Then she became aware that his hand had moved and was rubbing butterflysoft over her nipple through the silk of her nightgown. A dizzy hungersurged in her, and she turned her head to meet him in a desperate kiss.His arms around her, pressed to him, she wanted only to eliminate alltheir clothing and be skin to skin, and more.
When the kiss died and his hot lips trailed down her throat, Beth said,“Oh and oh and oh.Pleasewill you take some clothes off?”
He laughed again, so hard he had to stop kissing her. “You’re adorable!What a terrible amount of time we’ve wasted.”
Running a wondering hand through his curls, she asked. “Why did you notseduce me that morning? I was more than half willing.”
He captured her hand. “I have never forced a woman,” he said softly.“You had so little choice in events that I feared I would have beenforcing you then.” With a teasing smile he asked, “How willing are younow, my courageous one? Still more than half? Three-quarters?Four-fifths?”
Beth pretended to give the matter deep thought. “Ninety-nine onehundredths,” she said at last.
He drew her back into his arms. “I’ll have to work on that fragment ofdoubt, my enchanting schoolmistress . . .”
Like an icy shock, remembrance of Clarissa, so close, stiffened Beth’smuscles.
He frowned in perplexity. “Beth, there’s no need to hurry into this,”he said, drawing back. “I’m sorry if you feel I’ve been neglecting you,but I require no price for my presence.”
If he left her now, Beth thought, she’d tear the room apart. “Lucien,”she said, “stop being so noble, damn you!”
He burst out laughing. “Oh Beth, I do love you.”
That shocked her into a semblance of sobriety. “You do?”
He met her eyes calmly. “Yes, I really do. I think I fell in love withyou at Hartwell. I’ve missed our time together these last few days. I’vemissed your challenging way of looking at things and your wit. You alwayscatch my jokes first time, and often cap them. Do you mind very much beingloved by your enslaver, my darling houri?”
Mind? She felt as if she could float away with happiness. “How could Imind? I’ve been trying to persuade myself for weeks that I don’t love you.And failing.”
As he took her in his arms again she murmured, “Do you think we cankeep it from the duke, though?”
His lips were against hers as he said, “Why?”
“He’ll be so pleased with himself.”
He laughed even as his mouth came down on hers and the magic startedagain. With playful hands and velvet lips, he teased and tantalized herinto delight but always, a barrier to ecstasy, was the knowledge ofClarissa.
Then Beth had an inspiration. “Lucien!”
“Yes, my darling,” he said against her breast.
