Page 75 of His Unwanted Duchess

If she concentrated very hard, she could almost make herself believe that shewouldn’tallow him to touch her again.

“Fear not,” Stephen said, not even looking at her. “I only want to sleep. And, as I said, the bed is easily large enough for two. You won’t even know I’m there.”

She swallowed dryly. “A gentleman would sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not a gentleman. In fact, I’m generally considered to be something of a scoundrel. Budge up, dear.”

He crossed towards the bed, tugging off his crisp linen shirt as he went. Beatrice’s eyes, unbidden, dropped to his naked chest.

She hadn’t been wrong about his impressive muscles. Shehadseen sketches of gentlemen stripped down to the waist before, but seeing it on ink and paper was entirely different from the real thing.

Stephen’s shoulders seemed broader than ever without the mitigating effect of his jacket. His chest was properly defined, strong and smooth, covered in a faint fuzz of dark hair. His waist was narrow, stomach rippling with muscles, and the glimpses she’d had of his back were every bit as impressive. There was a deep line curving down to the small of his back, starting from between his shoulders, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to trail her fingers down that curve. His skin would be warm and smooth under her touch, she just knew it.

Giving herself a quick, frantic shake, Beatrice snapped herself out of her reverie just as Stephen—naked from the waist up!—climbed into bed beside her. He’d brought the candle with him and set it on the bedside table.

“Get out,” Beatrice snapped. “Why can you not just find a guest room?”

“Why canyounot find a guest room?”

“Because this is my room!”

“It was mine first.”

“Yes, and then you left for six months.”

He snorted. “What an interesting development! It seems that leaving something alone—like a room or a house—for a few months is equal to giving it up. Lawyers and judges all over the country will be fascinated by this. You shall have to explain it to them.”

“Oh, I give up. You are a wretch.”

“I have been told so before, yes,” he said comfortably, settling further down in the pillows.

“I will tell you one more time,” she said, trying to look resolute. “Get out of my bed and out of my room, or I shall scream.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Will you?”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes.

I have had a very long day, you wretched man. You have chosen the wrong time to call my bluff.

Drawing in a deep lungful of air, she opened her mouth, ready to scream at the top of her lungs…

A hand clamped over her mouth, and a weight pinned her down to the mattress. The scream died in her throat, and she found herself on her back, her eyes wide, staring into Stephen’s cool green eyes.

His hand was firm against her mouth, not hard enough to bruise but firm enough that she could not shake herself free. His free hand was wrapped around her wrist, pinning it to the mattress. Gradually, she became aware that his torso was pressed against hers, the warmth of his skin seeping through that embarrassingly thin fabric of her chemise. Heat rose to her cheeks and coiled in her gut, achingly full of desire.

I want him,she realized with a dizzying rush.I want him with me, in this bed, or in a carriage, or whenever he chooses. I just want him.

It was a rather embarrassing and very inconvenient realization. It could not have come at a worse time—with the man in question half sprawled on top of her.

“No screaming,” he said sweetly. “The servants are in bed, and we wouldn’t want to disturb them, would we? Just like I am not going to disturb you. No reason we can’t be civilized about all of this. Now, if I remove my hand, are you going to behave?”

She shivered.

He removed his hand experimentally, and Beatrice kept her lips pressed together. She wondered, briefly, what he saw when he looked down at her. Her hair was a mess, certainly, her eyes wideand vaguely outraged, and perhaps he was a little shocked at her wearing a thin chemise instead of a proper nightgown.

It hardly mattered, though, because she never did know what Stephen was thinking, and she was beginning to think that she never would.

For a moment, they lay like that, Beatrice fairly mesmerized by Stephen’s vivid green eyes. It took a moment for her to realize that he was staring down at her just as silently as she was staring up at him.

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