He dropped his head over her shoulder and stared at her upside down. “What would you have me say about this dress? Before it’s on the floor—what would you have me say?”
“Nothing,” she said.
He sat up and stared, objectively, at the dress. “It’s blue,” he tried.
She laughed and dropped a hand over her face.
“It’s shimmery,” he guessed.
Her eyes were shielded, but he could see a small smile. He was on the correct path.
“I can see,” he added, “why it would appeal to children.”
She made a noise of surrender and tipped over, pressing her face into the mattress, offering him the row of tiny buttons.
He pulled her back, balancing her again on her side. He leaned over her. “Tell me what you would have me say. The dress is, in fact, green?”
Ryan sat up, and he dodged her just in time to avoid bumping heads. “Why,” she asked, “would I—or any woman—care about the shade of the gown, Gabriel?”
He panicked. His only regard for the gown was that it remained on her body. Also, she was no longer prone. Also, they’d stopped kissing. Also, he wasn’t touching her. She—
“Forget it. This is my error.” She sighed. “I was fishing for compliments.”
Gabriel thought of this, he thought of what he knew of women and dresses and compliments (almost nothing); and he thought of what he knew of Ryan’s face, and body, and her presence in any room, or standing in his garden, or on a dark hillside in the rain.
She was shaking her head, staring into the distance. “Foolish,” she said to herself. She dropped to the mattress again.
Gabriel caught her up, taking her by the arms and rolling her onto her back. Her eyes went wide, and she brought up her hands to clasp his shoulders.
“Ryan,” he tried, “my mind does not interact with beauty like that of a man who is socialized and accustomed to the guiles of a pretty female.”
“Please—” she cut in, squeezing her eyes shut. She turned her head to the side.
He dipped and kissed her neck. “Allow me to finish.”
She let out a little moan, and Gabriel exhaled. The damage was not irreparable. He’d not lost her.
He rooted up her neck and spoke directly into her ear. “I have taken your beauty for granted, Ryan, I can see that now. And the reason is—I take all beauty for granted. It would not occur to me to compliment the sky after a summer storm, no matter how radiant; nor the wing of a dragonfly, no matter how intricately lined or iridescent. I do not tell the deep green cavern of the forest that it’s breathtaking, nor the brook that it’s smooth. My life is awash in natural beauty—and I cleave to it, and derive my sanity from it, but I also take it for granted... becauseI can. You’ve seen how disinclined I was to leave the forest—this is but one of many reasons why.
“When first I saw you—nay, every time I look upon you—I see beauty equal to the untouched, natural splendor that has been my daily abundance for years. I see radiance and smoothness in your face, I see serenity in your bearing, I see perfection in your small, gentle hands, and your soft earlobe and delicate ankles. My breath is taken away when I look upon you; I cannot resist you—as we’ve seen. And I cannot share you, as we’ve also seen.
“In my very great entitlement, I’ve allowed myself to touch you, and kiss you, and see as much of your softly curved body as I possibly can. But it hasnotoccurred to me tosayany of this to you. Your dress, be it blue, or green, or the color of a riverbed after a drought, would have almost no impact, because I don’t care about dresses. I see the body and the face, bothmade perfect in heaven but existing within my own reach here on earth.”
He pulled away from her ear and studied her face. “Do you see, Ryan?”
She blinked up at him, tears in her eyes, bottom lip bit between her teeth, and nodded. Her arms went around his neck and she tugged him to her. His mouth found hers and they devolved into another kiss. The mindlessness returned, and he kissed her like they were descending into a wonderful, hazy trance. Only when he felt himself begin to press against her, to thrust and nudge to stoke the burn between his legs, did he pry himself off, tip her sideways, and return to the fasteners at her spine. She went easily, her body pliant and languid, and he worked quickly, his hands shaking, his body as hard as iron.
“I would see you,” he rasped. “If you doubt my incredible regard for your beauty, Ryan, look no further to how desperate I am now toseeyou.”
By some miracle, the dress opened easily, and she scooted and lifted and allowed him to peel it from her body. Beneath the dress, she wore a thin bell of petticoats and stiff stays. The petticoats went the way of the dress, revealing stockings secured at her thighs with garters and loose cotton drawers.
Gabriel swallowed hard, gaping at the resplendent display of sensual woman sprawled on his bed. “Now this,” he rasped, “I feel compelled to remark upon. You are gorgeous. I can barely touch you, you’re so gorgeous.”
With shaking hands, he unfastened the stays, releasing heavy breasts with dusky nipples. The sight ofthem poised Gabriel on the precipice of what felt like a small crisis. He’d never wanted so urgently to touch, to feel, to weigh, to tease; but he also wanted her entirely naked before him, he wanted to finish what he’d started. His mouth watered, his hands trembled, he stared with his breath caught. His erection felt like a marble club between his legs.
And then she arched up, peaking her breasts in his direction, and he let out an agonized moan.
Moving quickly, he slicked the stockings from her legs, dragging the garters with them. After the stockings, he tugged down her drawers; this afforded him the glorious sight of the triangle of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. Gabriel swallowed hard and exhaled again.
