“Everyone deserves a second chance.”
She folded her arms and surveyed him without favor. A night of self-castigation and a day of struggling to keep
his distance lent him the wisdom to remain silent.
“If I say no?”
He sighed, defeat beating around him like a hundred angry ravens. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“How reassuring,” she said sarcastically. Her arms fell in surrender to her sides. “I’m at your service, Your Grace.”
If anyone but Pen’s husband had asked her to revisit yesterday’s disaster, she’d threaten him with the nearest fire iron.
But she owed Cam more than she’d ever realized. She’d always known that for her sake, he’d relinquished the perfect bride, a big society wedding, a connection with an influential family. She’d had no idea that he had wed a woman whose name was synonymous with sin, however ill-deserved her reputation. This marriage had done Cam a greater wrong than she’d imagined.
She swallowed to moisten a mouth dry with nerves, and told herself she could endure his possession. But dread hollowed her stomach. Along with a roiling soup of other emotions that included unwilling attraction, contrition, resentment—and ineradicable love. When during her sleepless night, she’d resolved to become a proper duchess even if it killed her, she’d known that her proud spirit wouldn’t bow easily. But imagining oneself a conformable wife and playing the part proved very different.
His green eyes were grave. “Trust me.”
“I’ll have to, won’t I?” she said grumpily, before recalling that a conformable wife wouldn’t snipe.
He caught one of her clenched fists. “We’ll go slowly.”
She shivered. Not entirely with fear. “I’d rather get it over with.”
He kissed her knuckles until her fingers relaxed. “You’ll change your mind.”
She didn’t believe him. Her belly lurched as she recalled the dizzying drop from the heights of excitement to the act itself.
He released her. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
His lips twitched. “I’ll help you undress.”
“Is it necessary?” All the same, she turned. It was a relief to escape his glittering gaze. He looked smug, like he knew a great secret. He also looked like he wanted to make a meal of her. Neither quieted her jangling agitation.
He untied the wide olive satin ribbon that cinched the gown so unnaturally high. “Absolutely.”
She caught the gown as it sagged over her bosom. “We need to do something about my clothes.”
Skillfully he unlaced the back. “I am doing something about your clothes.”
She felt no desire to laugh. Her knees trembled as she stepped from the crumpled gown. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.” Deft fingers released her corset. “And, yes, I will. But not tonight.”
Her stomach quaked as his hands brushed her bare shoulders. Then quaked again at the salute of his lips on one shoulder blade, then the other.
“No, not tonight.” Her voice was thready. “Shall I… shall I take off my shift?”
“Not yet.”
She couldn’t help noticing how his voice deepened on “yet.”
His fingers slowly sketched a cobweb of heat over her skin. She’d never counted her back or shoulders as erotic zones, but he set her tingling. Under her upswept hair, he massaged her nape. Warmth flooded her right to her toes. Goose bumps broke out and her nipples tightened into aching points.
Surprise held her motionless under his touch. After last night, she’d thought arousal impossible.