The Heir - Catherine Coulter [39]
“You will keep pushing? All right then, ma’am. Would you care to examine my attractive cleft more closely?” He paused just the barest moment, then added, “If you hadn’t noticed, there is also a great deal more of me that I trust you will find equally attractive.”
“I trust you will find the same true of me, sir.”
“After seeing you in your drenched, very clinging gown, ma’am, I honestly can’t imagine being disappointed. However, I am a man who prefers actual proof, not just speculation.”
He wanted plain speaking, she’d give him plain speaking. She’d hit him on the head with plain speaking. “Oh, I see. You mean you want me to take my clothes off?”
“That would be an excellent start, but I doubt it is exactly the thing to do this evening. Come, ma’am, enough fencing about. Let’s sit by the fire and discuss your serious matters.”
He led her to a small sofa and sat himself very close to her. Probably too close, but that was just too bad.
She turned to face him, looking at him squarely in his gray eyes. “I have decided that I will marry you.”
“Not an ounce of preamble,” he said, as he picked up her hand and began to study her fingers. “Not even a small warning or the barest signal that you were going to blast me out of the water. Would you believe me if I told you that you have just made me the happiest man alive? No, I can see that you won’t believe me. Actually I wouldn’t either.”
“This has nothing to do with happiness, sir. Why are you looking at my fingers? You’re playing with them. They are just fingers. Why?”
“You have lovely fingers. At least in this, we are not alike. Graceful hands you have, ma’am, quite unlike mine. No happiness for us, ma’am?”
“You know very well why we must wed. I am willing to do my part. Are you willing to do yours?”
“Parts. An interesting word. There will be many parts for us, ma’am, if we marry. Are you willing to accept me as a man and not just a poor fellow who happens to live in the same house with you?”
“What do you mean exactly?”
He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed each one of her fingers. “A preamble, ma’am.” He pulled her closer and kissed her mouth. Not a deep kiss, just a light touching. Still, she jerked back. He looked long into those gray eyes of hers. He lightly touched his finger to her chin, then ran it along her jaw. “Never before been kissed, ma’am?”
She shook her head, all that lovely hair dry now, all glossy and blacker than a sinner’s deeds. She was staring at him, at his mouth, then down at the hand he held, the fingers he’d kissed.
“There is a bit more. Perhaps you won’t find that repellent either. But one shouldn’t rush these things. Would you like to kiss me again?”
She nodded her head. “All right.”
This time she came to him, her palms flat against his chest, but she wasn’t pushing against him, no, she was just resting her hands there, one over his heart and he knew she could feel the quickened beat. He kissed her again, still lightly, not forcing her in any way. He touched his tongue to her lower lip, the one she’d licked. She jumped. He cupped her face between his large hands. Actually, he wanted to press her down on her back, pull up her skirts and look at her. He could only imagine how beautiful she would be. Then he wanted to kiss her, slide his hands up the insides of her thighs. He gently eased his tongue into her mouth.
She didn’t jump this time. If he wasn’t mistaken, and indeed he wasn’t, she was interested and becoming more interested by the moment. He began to stroke his hands through her hair, tangling his fingers, wrapping her hair about his hands, bringing her closer and closer until her breasts were against his chest and her hands, fluttering a moment, came around his back.
“These are parts,” he said into her mouth. “The whole is when we will come together. Marry me soon, ma’am, or I just might expire from my need of you.”
She raised her head. She seemed without words, which was a surprise, for since he’d known her—such a short time