He looked so in earnest, she had to laugh. “How am I to fight such a heartfelt request?”
He grinned and pulled her into his arms. “You aren’t.”
In truth, it was just what she desperately needed as well. Not until she was in his arms again would she feel perfectly safe.
She feigned severity. “Very well, but there will be conditions.”
He quirked a brow. “I’m listening.”
“You have to stay still.”
A very naughty grin played upon his lips. “I’ll do my best. What else?”
“You’ll tell me if it hurts.”
“If what hurts?” he asked innocently.
She gave him a playful tap on his chest. “Your shoulder, you wretch.”
His attempt to appear contrite was ruined by the boyish twinkle in his blue eyes. “I promise.”
Sometimes she forgot how young he was. His authority and battle-hardened exterior made him appear much older than his seven and twenty years.
God, he is beautiful.The hard, masculine lines of his face lightened by playfulness. His eyes even crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The effect was utterly devastating.
He took her breath away.
She stood up and moved to the door, sliding down the metal bar so they would not be disturbed. She could feel his eyes on her every step of the way.
“There are a few problems,” he said.
It was her turn to look at him questioningly. “Such as?”
“Our clothes.” He sat back against the pillow with a wide grin on his handsome face. “I’m afraid my arm hurts too much to be of much help in removing them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
He nodded solemnly. “I guess you’ll have to do it on your own.”
“And what will you do?”
“Why, watch, of course.”
“Of course,” she said dryly. With her back to him, she removed herarisaidhand folded it carefully on the chair. She looked over her shoulder, catching him staring at her bottom. “I don’t suppose I could bother you to help me untie my laces.”
“I might be able to manage.”
She returned to the bed and stood with her back to him as he unlaced her kirtle and then her stays. His fingers seemed to caress her skin as he worked the ties, lingering at the sensitive small of her back, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine.
When he’d finished she shrugged the gown off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. The stays were loose enough for her to shimmy them over her head.
Though she wore only her sark, the room seemed to be getting warmer, and she could feel a flush spread over her skin.
She could hear the hitch in his breath as each piece of clothing hit the ground and knew that watching her—even from the back—had aroused him. She started to work the ties at her neck, but he reached out to clasp her wrist.
“Let me see you, lass,” he said, all playfulness gone from his voice.
She turned around to face him, cheeks burning. She might be embarrassed, but she couldn’t claim to be unaffected. There was something deeply sensual about undressing before a man knowing his eyes were on your every move.
