Free Forbidden in February by Suzanna Medeiros Page A

against the ivory bodice. Three simple tapes and then the dress was falling open. She didn’t raise her arms, as he’d expected, but allowed the material to drop to the floor.
    Her corset laced in the front—of course, she didn’t have a maid to dress her—and when he moved to stand before her she was already beginning to unlace it, her eyes downcast. He removed his coat and began to unbutton his waistcoat, but his eyes never left her nimble fingers and the soft flesh that threatened to spill over the top of the undergarment.
    He was known for his tidiness and his attention to detail, but today that care was cast aside as he all but tugged the garments from his body. He hesitated after throwing his waistcoat to the floor, however, because Isabel had removed her corset, taking more care than he by placing it and the dress she’d gathered from the floor onto the chair by his small desk. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he watched her move, wearing only a chemise so thin it was almost transparent. She hesitated a moment before turning to face him.
    This time it was she who closed the distance between them. She who reached for his face, dragging his head down even as she pressed her nearly naked form against him. There was no slow buildup, their kiss almost violent as their lips met and did battle. He brought his hand up to her shoulders and tugged her chemise down, and she dropped her arms so that garment fell to the floor. When she raised them again, it was to tug his shirt from his trousers and trail her hands beneath the fabric.
    He managed to keep from swearing as he drew his shirt over his head and cast it too to the floor. Isabel pressed her body, now bare save for the stockings she wore, against him. He groaned and resumed kissing her, battling against the urge to take her too quickly. He lost that battle, and he broke away so he could swing her into his arms. She gave a small yelp of surprise and threw her arms around his neck.
    It took him only three steps to reach his bed, and he bent to place her carefully in the center before standing and looking down at her, the desire to look at her as he’d drawn her impossible to resist. He frowned when he realized her hair was still up. Needing to see it down, to see those golden strands at the ends that she hid away, he kneeled next to her on the bed and held his hand out to her. Confused, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up into a sitting position. He began to remove the pins from her hair then as she remained still. Finally, when he’d removed the last pin, he twisted to deposit them on the side table. When he turned back, Isabel’s hair had tumbled down around her shoulders and several tresses clung to her surprisingly full breasts. He reached out and traced a finger along the length of one of those tresses, around the top of the breast to which it clung, continuing to follow it down to her nipple, where he stopped and stroked his finger along the rosy peak. Isabel gasped and he tore his gaze away to look into her eyes. What he saw there wasn’t fear but desire.
    “You are so beautiful,” he said softly.
    She blushed again and opened her mouth to say something, but stopped.
    “What is it?”
    “Can I… would it be too forward if I touched you?”
    The corner of his mouth lifted. “I am at your disposal, Miss Durham. Do with me what you will.”
    Her color deepened and she lifted a hand. She hesitated, and he could almost see her mind working as she wondered where to touch him first. She must have decided that his chest was safe, moving to lay her hand against him. She copied his own actions, using her thumb to tease his nipple, and a sharp bolt of desire streaked through him. This time it was his turn to gasp, and she smiled in response. She brought her other hand up then and explored his chest, then followed the muscles of his abdomen down to the waist of the trousers he still wore. To his disappointment, she didn’t explore