The valley of creamy skin went all the way down to the small of her back.
Hernakedback.
“You’re not wearing underclothes,” he got out. A miracle because he was sure he’d swallowed his tongue.
“The chemise was too cumbersome without a corset,” she said.
“And why aren’t you wearing a corset?”
“Because I forgot to order one from the modiste and my other was mud stained.”
From our race to the creek.
Factual. Rational.
His heart was about to beat out of his chest. If she wasn’t wearing her top underthings, did that mean she was bare lower—
Jackson forced his gaze above her waist. Fixed his wandering eyes to stare at a banal painting of a haystack down the hall.
“Do you need a button hook?” she asked, her voice a bit breathless.
He glanced at the buttons and away. “No.”
“Then are we to stand here the rest of the morning? Because I believeboth of ushave a more pressing engagement.”
He rallied at her dry tone and remembered exactly whose bared back he faced. “Forgive me, General Greene. I will see you are properly uniformed and ready for the firing squad posthaste.”
“‘Firing squad’? Here I thought marriage was more of a slow death while suffering daily torture.”
He chuckled. “I see you’ve written your wedding vows.”
“Great, aren’t they? Now, hurry up, soldier, before I forget the latest statistics on infectious diseases through the marriage bed.”
Withthatsensual thought running through his head, Jackson secured the first half of the buttons without issue. Then his grip on the next button slipped and his fingers brushed the exposed skin between her shoulder blades.
The gasp she made—somewhere between a moan and a quick inhale—caused fire to flare in his gut.
He tried again, taking his time. Then the next button. And the next.
Don’t rush, his thoughts taunted.
Clearly, this was not the time to take Roberts’s advice.
The last button was mercifully hooked, and Jackson dropped his hands to his side, his fingers tingling and aching to undo all the work with less finesse.
He didn’t step away, but she didn’t turn to face him, either.
They stood like that, the tension in the air unmistakable.
The clock chimed ten.
Distant bells tolled the same. Wedding bells.
“We should go,” he said.
“We should,” she agreed.
He stepped back the same time she turned, their bodies seeming to ebb and flow like water on the shore.
