Page 121 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

"So are you."

"Ladies first."

"That's not how this works."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "How does it work, then?"

She reached for his cravat, tugged the knot loose. "You take something off. I take something off. Fair exchange."

"I didn't realise we were negotiating."

"We're always negotiating." She pulled the cravat free, dropped it to the floor. "Your turn."

He reached behind her, working the laces of her corset. His eyes darkened.

The stays loosened, gaped open. He let them fall.

Matthew's breath caught.

She stood before him in nothing but her shift, thin linen that hid nothing in the firelight. Her nipples peaked against the fabric. The shadow between her thighs was clearly visible.

His eyes moved over her slowly. "Never get tired of looking at you."

"Your turn."

He yanked his shirt over his head without bothering with the buttons. His chest gleamed in the firelight. Scarred, muscled, magnificent.

"Better," she said.

"Your turn."

She grasped the hem of her shift. Paused.

"Something wrong?"

She met his gaze. "Just savouring the moment."

"Savouring." His voice was strained. "You're killing me."

His hands went to the fall of his trousers. He unfastened them with rather less finesse than she'd shown, shoved them down along with his smallclothes, kicked them away.

Now he was naked too. He was hard. Straining.

She let her eyes travel down his body. Shoulders, chest, stomach, the dark trail of hair leading downward to—

"See something you like?" His voice was rough with barely leashed want.

"Something adequate."

He choked on a laugh. "Adequate?"

"I've seen better."

"You're lying."

"Prove it."

He moved so fast she barely saw it coming. One moment he was across the room; the next he had her pinned against the bedpost, his body hot against hers, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that stole her breath.