Authors: Gloria Harchar
Pure pleasure. Merely hearing such simple words in his deep, husky voice sent a ripple through her, heat and hunger that made her nerves quiver like a feather in a breeze. Oh,
ye
s, she could
well believe that his lovemak
ing would lead to pleasure.
Just knowing that he truly wanted her was pleasurable. For several moments, she merely stared at him and reveled i
n that knowledge.
He wanted her
.
He really was interested in getting to know her in that special, intimate way that a husband learned about his wife. Surely this was a good sign—surely he couldn
'
t leave her in the co
untry and forget her after
this
.
All right—now
that
she
'
d finally come to terms with the notion, what was she to do about it? She hadn
'
t the slightest idea. He
'
d caught her flat-footed. She worried her hands.
"
Uh, well, it looks like you
'
ve already begun the process.
"
"
Just helping out a bit. Would you rather
I start removing your clothes?"
"
No,
"
she said in a squeak that sounded like the barrelabout when she stepped on the brake
. She stared, fascinated by the dark swirls of his chest hair. His bronze skin glistened, reminding her of a statue. She wanted to touch that skin. The realization shocked her.
"
I thought you said I could use my own strategy,
"
she blurted out.
"
I did.
"
A feverish heat burned her cheeks. She couldn
'
t think with all that skin exposed.
"
Well, button up that shirt right now.
"
How delightful
.
Malcolm
barely resisted the urge to chuckle. On the heels of that
reaction came one of surprise—
surprise at himself. What in bloody hell was he doing here? He hadn
'
t meant to come tonight. But
her challenge earlier had made ditching her unavoidable
.
"
So you don
'
t want my shirt off?
"
"
Absolutely not
.
"
He raised his brows at her
dogged denial
.
She smiled sheepishly and fiddled with her hair.
"
Uh, no, actually I
'
ve thought in detail the whole business of child-making and
your assumption has ruined the
... sequence of events I had in mind.
"
"
And, pray, what do you consider the most important article of clothing to remove in this business of reproduction?
"
Fascination stole over him as he waited for her answer.
She stared at him. He could see the panic in her
eyes
, and he was almost tempted to give her an excuse to say good night—almost.
Staring at him, she blurted,
"
Your boots.
"
He couldn
'
t resist teasing.
"
Good choice,
"
he told her with a serious look.
"
You
'
ve been studying the art of seduction.
"
She frowned, and he could see doubt cloud her
lively
eyes
. Leaning back, he wondered if she would find an excuse to postpone their encounter.
"
Stick out your foot, please,
"
she instructed like a schoolmistress.
"
Ye
s, madam.
"
He obliged.
She knelt in front of him, looking as if she would bolt if he moved. With a deep breath, she bent to grasp his heel. Clasping the toe of his boot in her other hand, she tugged. Nothing happened.
She darted him a look.
"
This is more difficult than I realized,
"
she said.
"
Are all men
'
s boots molded as a second skin?
"
"
I haven
'
t noticed.
"
He supposed he should tell her the correct manner in which to take
off a boot, but he was enjoying himself too much.
"
Well, I hope you pay your valet well,
"
she quipped. Remaining in her hunkered down position, she secured his foot under her arm, causing the mounds of her breasts to spill over the edge of her bodice. Her warmth permeated the leather. Awareness of her soft, womanly body pressed against him
gave a jolt of pure lust. A
line of sweat beaded his upper lip. Suddenly, it wasn
'
t a game anymore.
Digging in her heels, she pulled backward once again, causing those delectable
mounds
to move enticingly. Adding insult to his growing passion, she damn near pulled him off the chair. He had to grasp the squabs to keep from landing in a heap on the floor. He couldn
'
t help it. He laughed, ending the sound in a choked groan.
"
Am I too rough?
"
she asked. She looked up.
She must have seen the lust in his e
ye
s. For certain she saw the direction of his gaze because she looked down. And gasped.
"
Oh, my!
"
Hastily she stood, dropping his foot with a thud.
Reverberations traveled up his spine, and he grimaced, certain
she would
run out the door.
"
You
'
re not reneging on our bargain already?
"
"
Of course not,
"
she said, turning with spunk that he was coming to both admire and dread. With determination, she grabbed his leg again, running her hands over his leather-clad calf, the caress knocking him upside down, causing him to shudder with unwanted passion. Hoisting his leg up, she grasped his whole foot in both hands.
Removing his boot was a simple task. His valet did it every day—even he had done the task on occasion. How could she turn it into an act of seduction? He wanted to rock her backward and tumble her on top of him. He wanted to explore that smooth skin that was the color of honey from days in the sun, to taste her and stroke her and claim her as his.
Sweat broke out on his brow.
"
I thought you said you studied this,
"
he commented through grit
ted teeth, wondering how she could be so unaware of the way she affected
him.
"
I have. Well—in for a shilling, in for a pound, I always say.
"
He should have been warned by that comment and the determination he saw gleaming in her e
ye
s.
Desire
nevertheless punched him in the gut when she hoisted her skirts, giving him an e
ye
ful of slim
calves
and
thighs
befor
e she straddled his leg. S
he
leaned and
adjusted his foot so that she held his heel,
and then
wiggled her hips, planting her feet wide for leverage. The move was unconsciously seductive. The picture of her adjusting her hips as she slid onto his hardness, her
yellow
-blond hair drifting over his chest, flitted through his mind.
A flush rose up the back of her neck. He knew she was aware of how intimate their positions were. His knee was inches from heaven. He could feel the heat of her settle over his thigh and it was enough to make him mindless with want.
"
Oh, my, it
'
s getting
hot in here, isn
'
t it?
"
"
I
'
ll say it is,
"
he fairly growled, trying not to groan with passion again.
"
It must be this spring weather.
"
"
Madam, are you going to continue to maul me or are you going to get my bloody boot off?
"
"
You don
'
t have to be so surly,
"
she snapped, turning to glare at him over her shoulder. The movement only brought his knee closer to the heat of her femininity.
"
For Christ
'
s sake, woman! We haven
'
t got all night,
"
he snarled.
"
Why not? You aren
'
t going anywhere, are you?
"
Not anywhere but insane, he wanted to say. His new wife was treacherous—that was all he could think.
She settled
his booted foot more firmly in both hands,
and
pulled. It gave. She went sailing across the
Aubussom
carpet.
"It's off!" she declared, holding the boot high as if it were a trophy.