Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"Perhaps if I promised that you would be my big amour?"

"You are not amusing. Now ---" She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. He was undressing, in front of her.

"Can you not wait a moment? Then I can leave you."

"No," he said, and continued unbuttoning his shirt. "I told you that you needed to accustom yourself to me. It's about time that you did." He shrugged off his shirt and folded it neatly over the back of the desk chair.

Diana swallowed. "Don't, Lyon."

He merely smiled at her and began unbuttoning his breeches.

"Stop! Oh, you are impossible! I think I shall feed you some goatweed."

"And what is that, pray?"

"A purge," she said, scrambled to her feet, and dashed out of the cabin.

"Too late, my dear," he said quietly to the empty cabin. As he eased himself naked between the sheets, he decided he'd best be careful, particularly after tonight. She just might try that goatweed on him. Then he found himself smiling into the darkness. He fully intended to make his little amour feel sensations she'd never dreamed of before. She would spare not a thought for her goatweed once he'd taught her a woman's pleasure. And she could most certainly cease her ridiculous twaddle about not marrying him.

She came into the cabin, her head down, refusing to glance toward the bunk.

"I am covered, Diana."

His voice was rich with laughter but still she did not look at him.

"Afraid of me, are you?"

"No, damn you! Now, will you keep your eyes closed?"

"All right."

She shot him a wary look, and he yawned.

"Why don't you brush out your hair?"

"No."

Her voice was muffled and he opened his eyes to see her pulling her gown over her head. She turned to look at him and he quickly closed his eyes again. He thought she growled.

He watched her take off her slippers. He waited, aware of his accelerated heartbeat. She stepped out of her one petticoat. She was wearing now only her linen chemise, that endearing garment reaching only to her knees. Lovely legs, lovely hips. As she reached for her nightgown, he sat up in bed, staring at her.

He wanted to laugh, then cry. He groaned instead.

She whipped about, holding her nightgown against her.

"You miserable bounder, you said you would keep your eyes closed!"

"I have been done in by nature," he said, his voice a combination of bemusement and chagrin.

"What are you talking about?"

How many more days? he wondered. "Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "that is why married gentlemen keep a little amour tucked away. My eyes are now firmly closed, Diana."

He suited action to words. Soon the cabin was plunged into darkness.

"What is this about husbands and tucked-away little amours?"

"I don't think you want me to tell you."