Duke of Dishonor (Lords of Scandal 11)
“What is it?” she asked, leaning back.
His grin turned wicked. “We’ve only got the one bath blanket and you’re wearing it.”
Her mouth formed a small O as she leaned back on her heels. “Oh dear,” she answered. “I could go dress and—”
He reached out of the tub and gave the spot where she’d folded one end into the other a gentle tug. “Or…”
Her brows drew up as she automatically held the blanket about her. “Brandon,” her voice was breathy. Beneath his hand he could feel the gentle beat of her heart.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, love. I will know every inch of you within a week. You are the love of my life, and I don’t want a secret between us. Ever.”
That seemed to convince her, and she stood, loosening the large cloth and pulling it from her body, placing it in his outstretched hand.
She stood before him without a stitch on and, honestly, she stole his words, his air, his thoughts.
“You are more beautiful than I ever imagined.”
Chapter Thirteen
Emily could not believe what she’d just done.
At first she felt afraid, and her hands flitted up to cover her body.
But then, as his words sunk in, as his eyes grew dark with hunger, she felt…powerful.
Confident.
In control.
She gasped in a breath. She hadn’t known it would be like this. That his desire for her would make her feel so much stronger.
He stood too and stepped from the tub, his body just inches from hers as he toweled off his large frame and then allowed the cloth to drop to the floor.
She allowed herself to once again look at every bit of him. From the broad shoulders that rippled with muscles, to his lean arms, down his rippling chest, to his lean abdomen, he was glorious.
She lifted a hand then and touched his collarbone, tracing the line of it and then allowed her hand to dip lower through the damp hair on his chest.
In answer, he reached for her hair and began to pull the pins one by one. It was an act he’d completed before, even more intimate now, but it reminded her.
He’d been caring for her all along.
“Brandon,” she said as she moved a bit closer. Close enough to feel his heat on her cooling body. “I’m cold.”
“Let me warm you,” he replied, snaking an arm about her waist and pulling her to him until she was nestled in his heat.
His other hand kept working the pins until her hair tumbled down her back.
He worked his hands into the strands, combing his fingers through them. “I love your hair.”
“Brown,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “If you read romantic stories the women are almost always blonde, unless they have flaming locks of red hair.”
He tsked and then kissed the crown of her head. “It has both blonde and red when the sun catches the strands. What’s more, it’s like silk, so smooth, soft, and shiny. It’s glorious.”
The rougher feel of his skin, the hair on his chest rubbed against her causing little tendrils of pleasure to dance along her skin. “I like the color of yours. It’s so dark, it’s near black.”
He bent down and kissed her temple, then her cheek, and the corner of her mouth. “I hope we have a whole passel of daughters that look just like their mama.”
And then he lifted her into his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed. “You should spend more time around my sisters before you wish for such a thing.”