A Little Bit Wild (York Family 1)

Marissa's green eyes widened, and her hand tightened around his thumb as she leaned toward him. "A courtesan?" she breathed.

"Yes. I'd been in love with her for two miserable years. She was the most beautiful, ethereal woman I'd ever seen. I wrote her poetry and made calf eyes at her. I was insufferable, I'm sure. But she finally decided I was old enough. She granted mercy and took me to her bed. By Clod, I thought I would never stop loving her after that."

She laughed. "But you did?"

"A young boy's fancy is nothing if not convenient. I was in love with the neighbor's new kitchen maid not three weeks later."

"Ah, so you fall in love often?"

He slowly raised their clasped hands to his mouth and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Marissa watched his mouth closely, as if she were waiting for

more. "I have since learned the difference between lust and love. Men are easily distracted by lust."

"But not women?" She kept the words light, but he heard the edge of worry in them.

"Some women as well. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Marissa."

"I am not beset by lust! It's only that I like to dance."

"Of course."

She yanked her hand away. "It's true!"

"I'm sure that's why you evaluate your partners' legs so carefully. To be sure they will step lightly."

Her eyes went so wide he could see the white all around. "I enjoy fashion! And beautiful fabric!"

"Come, Marissa. Tell the truth. What you enjoy is ogling men's limbs."

Color rushed to her face so quickly that Jude worried she might grow dizzy and lip over. He put a hand under he

r elbow to steady her.

"There's no need to lie," he said softly. "Not to me."

She drew in a slow breath. Then she set her shoulders back and nodded. "Yes, I like to look at them."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I don't understand how I can be the only one! They walk around with their legs just... out. They wear trousers so snug, and everyone pretends that we're not supposed to look as they strut about like peacocks, and—" She cut off her own rant and drooped as if her strings had been cut.

Jude raised an eyebrow. "I'm rather disappointed not to be included in your diatribe. You haven't snuck a peek at my legs yet, Miss York?" He crossed his ankles and watched her eyes slide down his body. He wore riding breeches and boots, and he knew she would look.

"I have. You are very... strong."

Despite her disapproving tone, Jude fell a coil of satisfaction warm his chest.

"They look very hard."

His thighs tightened at the shock of her words. "Are men's legs not supposed to be hard?" When she shrugged, her gaze skittering back to his legs, Jude's heart beat faster. "All that looking and no touching?"

"Hardly any at all," she sighed miserably.

Jude's nerves sang with awareness, but he kept his expression calm. "Ah, but you are betrothed now. In theory."

She finally looked up al him, brows tightening even as her mouth curved up. 'Jude Bertrand, are you inviting me to explore your limbs?"

"Would a gentleman encourage that sort of thing?" He stretched his arms high, then folded them behind his head and closed his eyes. "But if I were to take a nap, I suppose I'd be at your mercy."