Page 81 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“Gwen…”

She placed her hands on her hips and cast him an impertinent look. “Either you sleep in that bed or we’ll sleep in it together. If anyone is to take the floor, it shall be me.”

“Not a chance,” he said with a deep and determined growl.

Was she not his to love and protect?

Well, she wasn’t his. Not yet, at least.

But she bloody well was not sleeping on the floor.

“Or I can take the chair. I am little enough to curl up in it,” she suggested, pointing to the only chair in the room, whose cushions were rather worn.

James did not want to think about what had taken place on that chair, and told her so.

She sighed. “Well, perhaps not. It does appear rather disgusting.”

“Because it is disgusting. Do not sit down on it.” He groaned. “All right, we’ll share. But we remain fully clothed.”

She pursed her lips and tipped her chin upward as she gave him another impertinent look. “You may do as you wish. My gown will wrinkle if I sleep in it, so I am taking it off.”

“Oh, gad. Don’t do this to me, Gwen.”

“Why are you so horrified? You’ve seen me undressed before. In fact, you undressed me the night I got drunk.”

“That was different. You could not stand on your own and I needed to take care of you.”

“Which you did wonderfully.” Her expression softened as she released a breathy sigh that shot heat through him—a bad thing, because he was already burning for her.

“How do you know?” he countered. “You cannot remember anything of that night.”

“Unfortunate for me,” she grumbled, now struggling with her laces. “Are you going to help me? Or must I manage these on my own?”

He cast her a look of exasperation before settling them both on the bed and then drawing her onto his lap. Before she could smile or ever say a word, he turned her to face away from him and undid her lacings. “There. Done.”

“You did that remarkably well.”

He grunted as she eased off his lap and slipped out of her gown, then set it carefully over the chair. This left her clad only in a shift that hid little of her exquisite body.

She next unpinned her hair, shaking out the lush, dark mane so that it tumbled freely down her back.

“Stop, Gwen. What are you doing?” Other than proving he’d chosen wisely in wanting her to be his wife, because she had gloriously full breasts and was setting off fiery spasms in his body.

Not that he’d fallen in love with her because of her ample breasts. This was simply yet another thing that attracted him, along with her intelligence, charm, and beautiful smile.

He tried not to stare at her impossibly hot body.

Heaven help him. The two of them were going to set off lightning sparks if they ever coupled.

But no, it wasn’t going to happen tonight, not when she had been thinking about Andrew Clement. They were only here because of that bounder.

“I’m getting ready for bed,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, which were too dour for his own good. “Are you going to join me?”

He let out a pained breath. “What else are you removing?”

She glanced at her shift. “Would you like me to remove this, too?”

“Yes…no. Don’t you dare take off another stitch,” he warned, growling again.