Free Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception by Christine Merrill Page A

in her voice again, and it drew him to her in a way that was very different than the simple lust of the night before. He closed the distance between them and put his arms around her body, feeling her stiffen, and then relax. ‘Do not feel the need to play the coquette to hold my interest. Or to continue with the act, should you change your mind. I wish to know you just as you are.
    And I wish to give you pleasure.’ And for a moment, he took comfort at how good it felt to have something to offer her, and to know that the night might be about more than his needs.
    ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘The bedchamber is on the other side of the sitting room. If you wish to retire there, I do not mind …’ Her body tensed again.
    ‘There is no need to rush,’ he assured her, stroking her shoulder. ‘You were quite right to think that I desired you. I have been on tenterhooks the whole day, fearing that I misunderstood your offer. And if I seemed to rush through my meal, it was not because I wanted to be elsewhere. I worried that I would do something laughable, or give you a distaste of me.’
    ‘By dining with me?’ she said. ‘What a strange notion. I would never find you laughable, unless you sought to amuse me. And I’m sure that when you upset me, it will have little to do with your table manners.’
    ‘When I upset you? You seem most sure of the fact, madam.’
    ‘Of course. You will have your way with me—and then be off. That is your intention, is it not?’
    And what could he say to that? For that had been his intention exactly.
    ‘But I am hoping that, after all of your bragging last night, that the experience is sufficient to assuage some of the pain of your departure.’
    What had her bastard of a husband done to her that she was so eager to be used, and yet so convincedthat she could not hold his interest for more than a night? It put him in mind to prove her wrong. ‘But suppose that was not my intention at all?’
    She seemed to shrink, as though she wished to evaporate, even as he held her close. Then she said softly, with none of the confidence he’d grown used to, ‘Have I done something wrong?’
    ‘On the contrary. You are more right than I ever imagined. Why do you ask?’
    ‘If you do not want me …’
    ‘Of course I want you, my darling. But things have more flavour if we take the time to savour them. Is there a couch by the fire where we might take our wine and sit for a time?’ He could feel her taking a breath, ready to object. So he reached carefully and found the tip of her nose with his finger. ‘Do not worry. When the time is right, I mean to take you to bed.’ From there, he touched her chin with the same finger, guiding himself to her face until her lips met his. The briefest kiss was a taste of heaven, just as it had been the previous night. ‘As a matter of fact, I doubt I will be able to help myself.’
    He kissed her again, slowly. Her mouth tasted of wine. He ran his knuckles over the curve of her shoulder, and felt the smooth fabric of her clothing. ‘What are you wearing? I think it is a dark colour. And it feels like silk. But beyond that …’
    ‘It is but a robe. Blue silk.’
    ‘Describe the colour. Is it like the sea? A robin’s egg?’
    She thought for a moment. ‘I think it could be called sapphire.’
    ‘And what do you wear under it?’
    He heard her swallow nervously. ‘My nightdress.’
    Adrian wrapped his arms more tightly about her, stroking her body lightly, so as to satisfy his curiosity without arousing her. He felt no stays or petticoats. And he damned his eyes for their betrayal. He would not have been able to take food had he known that on the other side of the table there had been only a few layers of fabric between him and the softness of this woman’s body.
    She was straining on tiptoe to match his height, kissing his ear with little licks of her tongue. He could feel each touch of it to the soles of his feet. ‘Let us sit,’ he whispered