At this, she felt her eyebrow arch in an incredulous expression. If it wasn’t a complete ruin, it was only by an infinitesimal amount.
“Well, at least it wasn’t a thorough ruining. It was about as damnably close as I can get without procuring an heir,” he murmured, almost to himself. The tone was almost wistful, as if he wished he had done a more thorough job of it.
Was she wicked to wish he had too?
“I see,” she remarked, because, well, she wasn’t sure what else to say.
He didn’t reply readily, and she closed her eyes to try and return to the blissful state that had somehow faded away with her thoughts.
Ramsey slowly slid away and then stood. She opened her eyes to watch him. His eyes were cloudy with unfulfilled need, and his cravat was hopelessly ruined. Clothing rumpled, he looked well loved, or at least well ravished, but he was none of those.
Was he?
Could she love him? She could certainly want him, even need him. But did that mean love? She had always thought that love would come first, and . . .
“Stop,” he commanded again.
“You’re quite bossy,” she told him, not able to help the smile that tipped her lips.
“You are as well,” he returned, a bit of a grin teasing his lips. Good Lord, she loved his lips. They were so soft and wicked, her body tingled in all the sensitive areas those lips had touched.
His gaze roamed her features, then sobered, and his brows frowned as he took in the rest of her state. His gaze took on a hungry glint as they traveled down her neck and settled to where her breasts were. She glanced down and then blushed, she was utterly exposed. With a quick adjustment, she was at least more presentable than a moment ago.
“Pity,” he remarked.
She gave him an arch look.
“You have lovely breasts. They are perfect in every way.”
She blinked, not quite sure what to say to that. She had never had a compliment about her breasts. She was quite sure that it wasn’t a proper compliment, but at the same time, it made her feel beautiful and wanted. So she simply replied, “thank you.”
He offered her a hand, and she grasped it. His strength gently pulled her up from the chaise and she proceeded to tidy up her dress, realizing it was hopeless, as rumpled as it had become.
“Allow me to assist,” Ramsey whispered, then stood behind her. His hands swept over her bodice, tucking, smoothing and aligning things as he moved down her body. His hands were warm, and the contrast made her skin goose bump.
“It’s not perfect, but at least it won’t be overly suspicious.”
“Thank you.”
“Heathcliff will be searching for you,” he said after a long pause.
His breath was warm at her neck, and she shivered as he placed a lingering kiss there. His hands wrapped round her waist, pulling her back into the strength of his body.
“I’m quite reluctant to let you go.”
“Oh?” She found her voice.
“Indeed.” He kissed her again softly, his tongue flickering against her skin. “I’m afraid you’re addictive. And I’ve never been addicted to anything in my life. Which is saying a lot, since I run a gambling hell.”
She breathed out unevenly. “I’ve heard gambling is terribly addictive.”
“Yet I’ve remained unscathed for this whole time,” he murmured, his hands spanning her hips and gripping.
Her breath caught. “That’s most admirable.”
“Is it? I must admit I’ve not been acting admirably. And I can’t find it within the strength of my morals to remedy that.” He pressed his hard length into her backside. “But there’s always tomorrow.”
“Is there?” she asked breathlessly, not caring that she sounded wanton. Good Lord, that ship had sailed when she’d entered his office alone.
