But he did not lower her feet to the floor. He didn’t release her at all, in fact, but was striding toward the obscure door that led to the anteroom.
“If you can’t, then what are you doing?” She ducked her head so it wouldn’t bump against the doorframe when he stepped through to his own chamber sideways.
“That room,” he huffed. “My mother is everywhere in there. No way in hell am I—are we—”
Comprehension donned slowly, along with a giant wave of relief. “Then it isn’t that you cannot… have relations with me. But that you cannot have them in your mother’s room?”
“God, no.”
As he pushed open the second door, she blinked at the flickering shadows on the ceiling and then startled when a person rose from a chair near the window and crossed the room.
A tall, thin, elderly gentleman—a gentleman’s gentleman. White hair sprung from his head and his eyes blinked as though he’d been asleep. She knew Chase kept a valet but hadn’t yet been introduced. The man, as she understood, kept to himself but for his duties.
“I won’t be requiring your assistance this evening, Smythe.” Chase shifted her in his arms, bouncing her as he did so.
“Of course, My Lord.” Smythe nodded. “My Lady.” He then shuffled, slowly—very slowly—toward an actual door.
She turned to Chase, and her gaze must have been questioning.
“Mr. Smythe was my father’s valet. I haven’t the heart to let him go.” But then he made a growling sound and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She quickly forgot all about Mr. Smythe when impertinent teeth nipped at her skin.
“Are you biting me?” But she was not complaining. How could she when the sensation sent fiery liquid spiraling through her?
“Mmm…” He didn’t really answer but this time lowered her feet to the floor. “Now, about that unbuttoning… Spin around, Beth.” That commanding tone was back.
So very bossy.
A tremor rolled through her when the sleeves loosened.
I like it.
Even so, long-held inhibitions had her clasping the bodice against her breasts.
More gentle stinging on her shoulder, followed by the heat of his mouth trailing back toward her neck. Her knees nearly buckled.
“Buttons have been dealt with.” His voice came out gravelly sounding. “Such a pretty gown but we can dispense with it now.” He grasped her wrists and lowered them to her sides.
The luxurious material landed on the floor at her feet with a soft fluttery whisper.
His warm palms skirted her arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She stood before him in nothing but her stays, slippers, and stockings, held up by yellow silk ribbons tied around her thighs.
Chase stepped back and circled around her, making no attempt to hide his appraisal of her figure.
“What?” Insecurity gripped her when he didn’t say anything.
He shook his head and then met her gaze, his eyes burning the color of blue flames. “I hope you don’t plan on sleeping much tonight.”
Bethany’s breath hitched.
Sleep was the last thing on her mind. The look he sent her elicited arousal—arousal and a sensual fear—that fear that was also excitement. She welcomed it.
His hands gripped her waist and he walked her backward to the raised bed, pushing her back until her elbows rested on the mattress.
Then he guided one of her hands to the bedposts and wrapped her fingers around it. “Hold on.” He nudged the toe of his boot between her feet and pushed them apart.
Her breath hitched again, her heart racing.
She wanted all of this but… “You remember I’m a virgin.” Not that she wanted him to stop, but there was that potentially painful prospect of losing her intact maidenhead. She’d always heard it was painful when it tore, anyhow.
