To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

“Closer,” the duke ordered. “This won’t hurt, I promise.”

That is what worries me, she thought nervously. She was afraid his demonstration would be too pleasurable, not too painful. But she shifted closer so that only a few inches separated them. “Now what?”

“Give me your hand. I want

to show you one of your most effective feminine weapons-the power of a simple touch.”

Roslyn’s brows snapped together. “Is this really necessary?”

“It’s not only necessary but important. You need to learn just how arousing a careless brush of fingertips on bare skin can be.”

“Can’t you just explain it to me?”

“Not effectively. There are some things that must be experienced.”

“Very well then,” she said, holding out her hand.

His fingers curled over hers, letting her feel their warmth. Then turning her hand over, he slowly began to stroke the center of her palm with a fingertip.

Roslyn’s breath caught in her throat, and it was all she could do not to show it. She stared down at their joined hands, wondering how he managed to infuse such sensuality into a mere touch.

“When you are with Haviland, you should contrive to touch him occasionally,” Arden murmured.

“Why?” she asked, striving to keep her voice even.

“In order to increase his awareness of you.”

There was no denying her awareness of the man beside her; she was maddeningly conscious of his body next to hers. Yet she was determined to pretend indifference to him, despite the arousing effect he had on her senses. There would be no repetition of that awkward moment in the folly yesterday when she had longed to kiss him.

His stroking fingertips skimmed over the heel of her palm to her wrist. “Make it seem accidental if you can. Just graze his skin with the slightest pressure. He will feel it, believe me.”

She had no trouble believing him; even that light caress left her breathless.

Then Arden shifted his attention further upward, letting his fingers glide along the sleeve of her gown to her elbow. The glancing touch sent pleasure rippling all the way up her arm and down again to her breasts, assaulting Roslyn with a potent memory of their passionate encounter on the balcony during the Cyprians’ ball. A heated tremor eddied deep in the pit of her stomach at the remembrance.

“See how powerful a mere touch can be?” he asked, his gaze locking with hers.

“Yes…I see.”

“You should consider it a chief weapon in your arsenal.”

His caress was indeed a weapon, Roslyn realized; a weapon of sensual enticement. It ignited an explosion of sensations in every part of her. And that was even before he brought his hand to her face and grazed her jawline with his fingertips.

Her pulse became a rapid tripping as he traced her cheekbone with his thumb and down over her lower lip.

The erotic gesture reminded her of the fantasies she’d woven of the duke’s hands and mouth after that first stunning experience with him. She hadn’t been able to forget his expert ministrations.

But of course, Roslyn thought as she struggled to calm her racing heartbeat, a legendary lover like Arden would know just how to make the most of a simple touch. He was clearly a master with women. His skilled hands knew just where to linger, how to arouse.

As if to prove that very point, his fingers curled beneath her chin and slid down to the hollow of her throat. A tremor coursed downward between her legs in liquid warmth, shocking her with its strength.

Roslyn tried to swallow as slowly Arden ran the back of his hand down her throat to her collarbone and then lower to the neckline of her gown. When his fingers hovered over her bodice, her mouth parted in a breathless protest…

And then suddenly he stopped. To her vast relief, his hand fell away.

There was an unreadable light in his eyes as he scrutinized her. “There,” he said casually, “that should give you some indication of your power.”

The careless remark was like a douse of chill water.