“What else do you want to know, my inquisitive wife?”
She wanted, desperately, to ask about Caroline, but suspected he would leave if she did. She took another moment to compose herself, then asked, “What do you do in the distillery?”
“I’m developing a navigation system for my airship. It’s in the early stages yet.”
She pulled back and looked up at him. “Why?”
“Come to the distillery next week, and I’ll show you.”
He’d never welcomed her there, and on the few occasions when she’d strayed to the building, had been annoyed at her appearance.
“I’m not taking off my nightgown yet,” she said.
“I’m answering your questions.”
How many women in America had he charmed with that smile? How many women had nearly swooned at his appearance?
He placed his hand on her left breast, gently cupping the linen. His thumb stroked against her nipple.
She closed her eyes at the sensation. A moment later, she opened them again as a thought occurred to her.
“Would you prefer I didn’t feel anything when you touched me?”
He lowered his head until his lips brushed her temple.
“That’s a question too foolish to answer.”
“I can’t help feeling things when you touch me,” she said.
“We’ll keep it a secret between us,” he said. “I’ll never divulge you’re a harlot in the bedroom and a lady in the parlor.”
“I wasn’t very proper in the parlor, either,” she said, trying to concentrate when he was gently squeezing a nipple. Heat pooled between her thighs. “Have you visited many harlots?”
“I don’t think that’s a question I’m going to answer. If I do, I will demand something quite large in return.”
“What would that be?” she asked. When had she become so breathless?
His hand had not moved, and two of his fingers were plucking at her nipple. The soft linen magnified the effect of his touch, sending a spear of heat down through her body.
“The entire nightgown,” he said. “All at once. I want you naked, Veronica.”
The game had become a tug-of-war between them, something almost forbidden, and therefore even more exciting.
“I think not,” she said.
His lips began to trail down her throat, and she tilted her head back to give him better access. He was cheating, in his way, but it felt so delicious, she didn’t challenge him.
“How did you become so adept at lovemaking?” she asked, feeling his lips curve against the tender spot just below her chin.
“Is that a proper question for a wife to ask?”
“No,” she corrected him, “I’m a harlot at this moment. Not a wife. Not a lady.”
“Then you should definitely be naked.”
“I’m a very expensive harlot, Montgomery. A man must earn the right to bed me.”
“I’ve answered all your questions,” he said, bending to kiss her.
