Page 393 of From Rakes to Riches

But he was selfish. Every time he’d caught a glimpse of her from across the room at the dinner party, he’d thought of being alone with her again. He’d thought of that dress he’d watched her try on, and the way it had made her breasts look like the most touchable, tasty?—

David went to his own room before he swept her into his arms. His valet had turned down the bed and left candles lit. But the man had long since retired for the night, knowing that David preferred to bathe in the morning and to prepare for bed alone.

Especially when he might not be sleeping immediately.

He stared at the door connecting his room to Victoria’s, yanking off his cravat and dropping his coat onto a chair. He was normally fastidious about his clothing, but tonight he felt…restless.

Off came his waistcoat, and he tossed it into a corner, feeling some satisfaction.

He stared at her closed door, knowing that due to his own wedding night suggestion, Victoria was just as closed off from him.

But he wanted to make her groan and know that it was all because of him. He wanted her as his real wife, so there would be no more uncertainty between them. Surely then she’d know she could trust him.

But he hadn’t done a good job of proving that so far.

He meant well—he just kept forgetting to inform her of things. He knew he wasn’t deliberately hurting her, but the look in her eyes tonight, when she’d realized that every other woman there but her knew the railway’s plans…

Leaving on his trousers, he drew his dressing gown over his bare chest. He leaned against Victoria’s door and heard the cascade of water. Unbidden came a vision of her sunk in her bath, her nude body glistening, her hair tumbling down around her wet, dimpled shoulders. He would offer to scrub her back, then slide his hands around the front of her and?—

He pulled back from the door and shook his head to clear these foolish thoughts. What was he, a boy waiting for his first woman? At the washstand, he splashed cool water onto his face.

Eventually he knocked on her door. There was absolute silence for several seconds.

“Just a moment,” she called in a breathless voice.

He wondered at his own impatience—it was not as if he was going to see even one bare limb. And maybe she was still angry with him. But he couldn’t ignore her.

“Come in, my lord.”

He entered her room, and immediately that peculiar scent wafted over him—the smell of jasmine soap from the hip bath cooling near the fire, the warmth from the grate, and finally the scent of Victoria herself, so unusual he couldn’t place it.

Tonight she stood near the hearth, always as far away from the bed as she could get. She wore the same dressing gown, belted at her waist. It showed off her well-curved figure as it flowed in cream silken lines over her hips. Above the sash, thesilk expanded over her breasts, meeting again at her throat. He could see her pulse fluttering just above the neckline. His gaze traveled up, to where she moistened her lips. The dart of her tongue made him harder, and he hadn’t thought that possible. Her lashes were lowered demurely, but she sneaked a glance at him with eyes that glowed violet in the low light. For a moment he froze, entranced by their shine.

How would she look at him if he pressed for more tonight, if he laid her down on that big bed and?—

But then he’d be disappointing her again, breaking their agreement.

She frowned at him, her blond brows losing that delicate arch. Since when had this fascination with her appearance crept over him?

“My lord?” she murmured uncertainly. “Shall I send for a glass of wine? Or brandy?”

He shook his head as he touched the end of the sash falling from her waist. She bit her lip, a familiar gesture that always riveted his attention on her full mouth. He tugged harder than he meant to, not realizing the sash was knotted. She stumbled toward him and put a hand on his chest to catch herself. Without thinking, he lowered his head until he could inhale the damp, fragrant scent of her hair. He put his hand over hers and held it to his chest--until he realized what he betrayed by his pounding heart.

He let her go and she stepped back, her face awash in its usual pink glow.

“Forgive me, my lord, I wasn’t expecting?—”

He guided her hands away from her waist and plucked at the knot himself. The backs of his fingers brushed her stomach, and he felt the catch in her breathing, saw the way she kept her face averted. Then the sash dropped away, and the folds of thedressing gown fell straight from the curves of her breasts. If only she weren’t wearing anything underneath, but he knew better.

He reached up to undo the single clasp at her throat, and she finally met his gaze. She was as still as a deer, those eyes shining at him—but not with trust.

The clasp came free, and he spread the dressing gown wide, letting it fall back from her shoulders. It slid off her arms to pool on the floor. Of course, she was wearing long sleeves, and she was covered from her toes to her neck, but the fabric was so sheer that he could see her nipples and watch them pucker from just his look. She was breathing so quickly that everything trembled.

10

Victoria stood trapped beneath her husband’s stare, feeling naked though she wore her nightdress. He was staring at her as if he could see through it, and she wished for the protection of a corset. She didn’t know her own body tonight, the way it ached when he was near her.

She’d felt his heart beneath her palm, and its racing speed had matched her own. He wore no shirt under the dressing gown, and the triangle of bare skin at his throat drew her gaze constantly. So she stood still and waited. When he said nothing, she finally raised her eyes to his. Would he touch her? Would he kiss her again?

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