Emmaline cut him off. She gripped hold of his hand and insisted, “Together.”
Her heart raced as she said the simplest of words for it meant so much more than it had ever meant before. She squeezed his hand, gazing up into his dark eyes, past the mask he still wore and past the disguise he had so carefully constructed to the man who was so clearly concerned for her comfort.
“Are you certain?” he asked once more, causing her to smile with tears of joy in her eyes. How she had gotten lucky enough to find such a gentle and kind man behind the devil’s mask, she would never know.
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” she assured him and with that she released his hand, turning her back upon him as she added, “Will you help me?”
Silence reigned for several moments and Emmaline worried that she might have gone too far too soon. Then, she heard him clear his throat and seconds later, she felt the tug of his grip upon the laces of her bodice.
Together they worked to undress her, unlacing every garment with great care. Having found it among the old gowns in the trunks of his main London house where they were staying, she was glad that it seemed to have been a success, though it was more than a little inconvenient now with all its layers and laces.
Still, it was a most teasing experience as with every layer removed, she felt herself growing closer and closer to the duke’s touch. And soon, she stood before him in nothing but her stockings, her back still to him. Self-conscious like never before, Emmaline wrapped one arm around her breasts and placed her other hand between her thighs, hoping to cover what remained of her modesty.
When his arms snaked around her, gripping both her hands, she breathed a deep sigh. The way his still clothed body pressed against her bare back was infuriatingly wonderful.
“Do not hide your beauty from me,” he whispered, pulling her hands away from her. As he tugged gently upon her right hand, she spun to face him.
He raised the same hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles delicately before he stepped back and started to undress himself.
As he did so, his eyes devoured every inch of her. Emboldened by the desire in his gaze, Emmaline dropped her hands to her sides and allowed him to eat up every last morsel. She smiled, biting her lip, aware it was all he could see beneath her mask.
And finally, when his garments had joined her own on the floor, Emmaline could not stop from doing the same to him. Dressed in nothing but his mask, she could finally see the true severity of his injuries. It was not only the one side of his face that was burned but much of his neck and torso, too. There was even some scarring on his arm and ribs and the sheer painful look of it made her yelp.
“I should have warned you,” he growled low in his throat, taking a step back. He reached for the robe that hung on a chair nearby.
Before he could pick it up, Emmaline closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand. “Don’t.”
“I did not wish to frighten you,” he said, turning away the ruined side of his body.
“You did not frighten me,” she said, pulling him back around to face her. She lifted her free hand and asked, “May I?”
She heard him swallow hard before he gave a curt nod.
Lifting both hands, Emmaline pushed up onto her tiptoes and reached around his head to undo the ribbon that was the only thing holding his mask in place.
His body was hard and still as stone as she removed it, revealing the handsome ruin of his face. She allowed the mask to drop from her hands, leaving them pressed upon his cheeks as she looked him deep in the eyes and said, “I see you, Alex, and you do not frighten me.”
Silence reigned once more but, in his eyes, she saw a world of hope and affection, one that made her head spin.
When he raised his hands and asked, “May I?” Emmaline swallowed hard, nodding.
His touch was ever so gentle as he undid the red ribbon that was holding her mask in place. His fingertips barely grazed the flesh of her neck as he lowered it down and dropped it onto the sheepskin rug at their feet.
He gazed back at her then, both their faces exposed, and said, “I see you, too, Em.”
Her entire body trembled then. Nobody ever called her Em save for her family, save for those who loved her. Was that what he was trying to tell her?
She didn’t dare to ask. All she could do was respond with a kiss and so she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes once more, pressing her lips to his with all the passion that coursed through her body.
Alex took her in his arms once again and for a second, she thought the floor was falling out from beneath her feet. Instead, she found herself hoisted up, his hands cupping her buttocks firmly.
“Alex, what are you—” she did not get the chance to finish the question or even make a protest as Alex stepped into the bathtub, holding her firmly in his grasp.
Before she could stop him, he dropped down into the water, carrying her with him. The oily water immediately soaked through her stockings, but she no longer cared as his lips consumed her own.
She straddled him willingly, his hands still firmly gripping her rear, pulling her ever closer to him. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hardening at the warmth of his skin against her own.
Beneath her, even through the water, she felt his rock-hard member pressing up against her, rubbing against her sex with the movement of the water.
