Bray felt anticipation simmer in his loins.
Louisa stood in the middle of the room, her back to him, counting. Her hands were gently clasped behind her, and she was swinging back and forth. Her glorious amber blond tresses tumbled past her softly rounded shoulders. The ends of a black scarf, which was tied around her eyes, mingled seductively in the back of her hair. She wore a simple honey-colored dress that flowed and fluttered enticingly around her legs with each movement she made. She looked so incredibly fresh and watching her like this, he was suddenly overwhelmed with desire for her.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,” Miss Prim called out loud. “Ready or not, here I come.”
With her arms and hands extended in front of her, she slowly felt her way over to the far wall, where there was a window. She patted the draperies to make sure no one was hiding behind them.
“All right,” she said. “I’m starting at the window, so I know I will have been around the room when I get back here.”
Bray quietly stepped farther into the room and leaned against the bookshelves so he could observe her. There was something about her vulnerable, innocent state that immediately had him wanting to cuddle her to his chest and kiss those soft, warm lips.
She was good at the game, moving the chair away from the writing desk and checking underneath it, walking all around the chairs and settees, feeling the cushions as she went. She searched under the end tables and behind the upholstered wing chairs.
Bray was so intent on just watching her that she was very close to where he was standing before he realized it.
He wasn’t sure he wanted her to catch him spying on her without her knowledge—but he wasn’t sure he didn’t, either.
Should he make his presence known?
It was the right thing to do. But how many times had he ever done the right thing?
The closer she came to him, the less he was inclined to move out of her way.
Yes, I want her to find me.
His anticipation kicked up a couple of notches when he saw her hands reaching out toward him. Closer, closer until her fingertips landed midway on his waistcoat, just about the height of the two older girls.
“Aha!” She smiled wickedly. “I’ve found one of you.”
She must have sensed he thought about bolting away, because she quickly added, “You know the rules: You cannot move once you’ve picked your hiding place.”
All right.
That was fine with him. He didn’t really want to move.
Her probing hands went lower. His heart rate jumped. Bone-melting pleasure seared through him and suddenly had his breaths coming fast, short, and shallow.
“Is this Lillian?” Miss Prim asked. “What do you have on? How am I to tell who it is when you disguise yourself?”
Her gentle hands slipped lower, pressing, lightly searching for the clue that would tell her whom she’d found. He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that she didn’t go wide in her search but kept her hands right up the middle.
Bray winced silently, tightening every muscle in his body, trying to force his manhood not to respond to her innocent exploration. But his will was no match for her touch. He was doomed. His lower stomach tightened, and a surge of hardness caught between his legs.
“I don’t think this is in the rules of the game,” Miss Prim said while one hand fiddled with the buttons on his waistcoat and the other slid open palm down the front of his riding breeches.
Sweet hell! That felt good.
“You are not supposed to masquerade yourself,” she added in an exasperated voice. “And what is this? Are you standing on a box to make yourself so tall? I’m not happy about this, but I’ll play along for now.”
I am.
Bray sucked in a deep silent breath. His senses reeled in delight. He finally knew the meaning of heavenly torture. It was heaven and it was hell to be fondled by a young lady who had no idea she was touching him, let alone where she was touching him.
“But remember, all of you promised to play fair this time,” she said. “I can’t possibly ever win if you keep changing the rules. And what kind of clothing is this you have on?”
Her hands moved up to his waist again, and she pulled on the ends of his waistcoat, but he felt no reprieve. All but one part of his body remained still, and it was throbbing and growing rapidly. He threw his head back and almost groaned out loud. Only his years of training, hiding every emotion that threatened to emerge from inside him, kept him still.
Though he couldn’t see her forehead, he knew when her brow wrinkled into a frown of confusion as her movements took her south again. Bray abandoned himself to the gratifying torment. He came over wanting to give Miss Prim a piece of his mind, and instead she was giving him the kind of finite torture no man should have to endure but all men wanted to.
