“I should like to see you try.”
She hated how handsome he looked when teasing her.
The loosened collar of his shirt exposed the strong line of his throat. Charlotte found herself staring again beforequickly forcing her gaze away. Unfortunately, Victor noticed immediately.
“You are doing it again,” he murmured.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me as though you wish to kiss me.”
Charlotte nearly combusted on the spot. “I am doing no such thing.”
His low chuckle curled through her like warm honey. “Liar.”
Before she could think of a retort, Victor stepped behind her. Charlotte felt his fingers slide carefully to the laces of her wedding gown. Her breath caught instantly as his touch moved slowly, deliberately, loosening each ribbon one by one.
“You are trembling,” he observed quietly.
“You make me nervous.”
“I know,” he whispered in her ear.
The dress loosened gradually around her body until Victor finally eased the heavy fabric from her shoulders. The gown slipped softly to the floor, leaving Charlotte standing in only herpale shift. Cool air brushed against her skin, and suddenly she felt terribly exposed beneath his gaze.
Victor looked at her with slow appreciation that made heat flood her entire body.
“My Duchess,” he murmured roughly, “you are beautiful.”
Charlotte could scarcely breathe.
Then Victor reached for his own clothing. Charlotte watched nervously as he removed his coat and waistcoat before slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her eyes widened slightly as the fabric parted and revealed warm skin stretched over firm muscle. She had never seen a man bare-chested before.
Good heavens.
Her gaze travelled helplessly over his broad shoulders, strong arms, and the defined planes of his abdomen. He looked powerful and masculine and entirely too handsome for her peace of mind.
Victor caught her staring and smirked. “You may continue admiring me if you wish.”
Charlotte flushed scarlet. “You are unbearable.”
“And yet you keep looking.”
She immediately looked away, which only made him laugh softly again.
Victor crossed toward her and gently swept her up into his arms before she could protest. Charlotte gave a startled gasp as he carried her toward the bed with infuriating ease. He placed her carefully atop the soft coverlet, his expression surprisingly tender despite the wickedness dancing in his eyes.
“Relax,” he murmured. “You are wound tighter than a violin string.”
“How can I possibly relax?”
“I shall assist you.”
Charlotte blinked in confusion. “Assist me how?”
“Like this,” he said as he settled kisses lightly on her shoulders.
His hands began moving slowly at her sides, and Charlotte nearly melted immediately.
