Sabrina tensed at the husky note in his voice. How did he make the prospect of dressing her sound like the most sensual thing in the world?
“So,” Niall said when they were alone, “do you deny my expertise?”
“No,” she had to admit; his choice of color and style was impeccable. “Your fame is well deserved.”
“What is this, love? A compliment from your pretty lips?”
Love. Sabrina bit her lip as she drew on her dressing gown, annoyed with the casual intimacy of the endearment. “Where did you learn about women’s fashions?”
“I had a year in France and Italy.”
She could easily picture him moving about the lavish courts and glittering salons of Europe, dancing attendance on princesses and duchesses. “I suppose that is where you honed your skills in the art of dalliance. The French are known for amorous talents.”
“Indeed.” His smile was languid. “The French lasses nearly wore me out with their demands.”
“How unfortunate they did not succeed.”
Niall ignored her wry gibe. “It is time you had some gowns that don’t obscure your best features. You will look quite lovely in these new ones. I predict you will be the envy of every woman in the Highlands.”
If they were envious, Sabrina reflected, it would solely be because she had wed the legendary Niall McLaren. “You don’t have to keep giving me false coin. I have no pretensions to beauty.”
“Not in the common way, perhaps.” His thoughtful look took the sting from his frank assessment. “Yet the adage is entirely true about beauty and the beholder. Often much of a woman’s allure results purely from perception.”
She regarded him skeptically.
“Comeliness is much overrated,” Niall asserted, crossing his arms over his chest. “A charming vivacity, a clever wit, an intimate glance, a beguiling smile, can compensate for a multitude of physical shortfalls. Many a lass has made excellent use of more meager charms than you possess, cherie.”
She made a face, but was unable to keep a hint of wistfulness from her tone when she replied, “I know very well gentlemen prefer beauty to plainness.”
“Some do, perhaps. But believe me, classic beauty is not the prime attribute that attracts a man.”
“In my experience, it is.”
“But then, you have not had a vast deal of experience, have you?”
“I’ve had enough.” She dropped her gaze. “I was betrothed once. He…found someone he preferred over me. Someone much more beautiful.”
“He sounds like a fool.”
“No, never that. He fell in love. He…wed my cousin.”
Niall’s heavy dark brows drew together. “Ah, the cousin whose betrothal ball I attended last year. Tell me, is this the same man who cannot pleasure a lass in bed?”
Sabrina remembered confiding her cousin’s view that only men enjoyed the act of lovemaking—and Niall’s swift response that her cousin was to be pitied. “I have no idea what his mating habits might be,” she retorted in embarrassment.
“But your cousin has found no enjoyment in her marriage bed.” He smiled softly. “At the risk of sounding immodest, it seems that you made the better bargain in your marriage.”
Had she made the better bargain? Sabrina wondered, searching his handsome face. Oliver would at least be faithful to her cousin, she was certain. She had no illusions about Niall. He had made very clear the terms of their union. He wanted to be free to continue his dissolute pursuits outside the marriage bed.
Niall returned her regard speculatively, an unbidden tenderness tugging at him. It was lamentable, how little confidence Sabrin
a had in her own beauty. But he intended to prove her wrong. If he did nothing else in this marriage, he would make his sweet mouse blossom as a woman, with a woman’s passions.
Rising slowly from his chair, he went to her. With his hands on her shoulders, Niall turned her slightly, positioning her in front of him so that she could see her image in the cheval glass.
“Every woman has her own special beauty…her own scent…her own passion. Yours merely requires a sharper eye to uncover.”
Was that his secret? Sabrina wondered dazedly. Was his incredible success with the gentler sex because he knew how to make a woman feel beautiful, desired?