Page 34 of Tempting a Gentleman
Instead of lying next to her upon the bed, Christopher padded over to a connecting room. He returned with a dark glass bottle in his hand. As he neared the bed, he removed the stopper and poured a liquid onto his hand. Her nose twitched at the aroma of roses. Scented oil. Her pulse increased with anticipation. He placed the open bottle and cap next to the candle. The bed slanted as he kneeled upon the bed, and Emma closed her eyes. She heard him blowing on his hands as he rubbed them together. Warm, slippery hands rested on her lower back, and then Christopher swept his hands up her back to massage the knots in her shoulders.
“Close your eyes and try to relax.” He slowly kneaded his way down her back, dispelling each knot along the way.
She moaned as each muscle loosened and became lax.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Do you recall my terms, my love?”
She nodded and mumbled, “Aye.” She yawned and let her eyes close. She trusted this man for some odd reason that her mind couldn’t fully comprehend. As his hands massaged down her back and along her thighs, she smiled. The heady sensation of being desired and treasured engulfed her and sent her heart soaring. And if he could pleasure her like this every eve, she’d willingly agree to marry him, but she wasn’t ready to admit it just yet.
Chapter Sixteen
Christopher’s thumb rubbed over the rounded curve of Emma’s bare shoulder. He’d normally be up and mentally preparing for the day. Except he couldn’t focus on anything but the naked woman snuggled against his side, who was making soft chortles. He’d never invited a woman to his bed before, always preferring to leave women sated in their own beds. But Emma made him want to linger. His lips curved into a smile as he imagined waking up next to Emma each morn. Instead of focusing on the challenges the day might bring, as was his usual habit, Christopher began to envision days filled with adventures. For a life with Emma would be a far cry from boring.
Emma’s eyes moved beneath her pale eyelids. What was she dreaming of? He wished she could read her mind. His intuition told him Emma hadn’t merely arrived in the dead of night to seek out legal advice. She could have sought out Bronwyn’s assistance, but she came to him. A spark of hope that Emma wanted him flared in his heart.
The faint streaks of sunlight filtering through his dark curtains marked the end of his time alone with his future wife. He’d not been surprised that Emma fell fast asleep as he massaged the knots from her beautiful body, but he hadn’t expected her to sleep straight through the night. Ignoring the prickling sensation settling into his arm, he remained still and drank in her beauty. Emma was clearly exhausted, but if he was to sneak her out without detection, he’d have to rouse her and soon. He had locked the door as a precaution. His valet was rarely up before the sun, but Cannon had an uncanny ability to appear as soon as Christopher began to rise.
Reaching over with his free hand, he cupped Emma’s rosy cheek. “Pet, it’s time to wake. We need to get you home.”
“Hmm…” Emma rolled over, pulling the bedlinens with her. In the struggle to free herself of the tangled sheet, her bare bottom nudged his hip. Shooting up to a sitting position, Emma blinked and looked about the room until her gaze fell upon him. “Blimey, wot time is it?”
A pretty pink blush colored her cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. Resisting the temptation to reach out and remove the blasted cotton sheet himself, he massaged his arm that tingled with pain. Blood rushed back into his fingertips, and his gaze wandered back to Emma.
She tugged the sheet up to her chin and stared back at him. “Is it still early morn?” The corner of her mouth twitched as her gaze raked over his bare chest.
Christopher shifted to loom over her. He slowly bent his head, but it was Emma who reached out and drew his lips to hers.
Yes. This is exactly how he wished to spend every morn.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, he ground out, “We need to agree upon a date.”
“A date for wot?” Emma pulled back and frowned at him.
“Our wedding.”
She rubbed her eyes and narrowed her gaze. “Did I say I’d marry ye?”
“You agreed to my terms.”
“But we didn’t…” She lifted up the sheet and looked about. Sheet raised back up to her chin, she repeated, “But we didn’t…” Emma wagged her prettily shaped eyebrows at him.
“I clearly stated that if you shared my bed for the eve, we were to be married.”
“Nay.” She shook her head and then, with a fierce look of determination, said, “We were to wedonlyif ye took me innocence.”
“I don’t believe that is what I said.” He tilted her chin up so he could stare directly into her eyes. “Shall we agree to two weeks from today?”
She raised up onto an elbow and muttered something that sounded likebloomin’ brilliant barrister, but he couldn’t be sure for his attention was focused on rose-colored nipples that peeked over the edge of the sheet. She tugged at the linens once more.
“I never said I’d marry ye.” Emma scooted away and jumped down from the bed. She wrapped the fine white bed linen tightly about her and searched the room for her garments.
“I’ll tell you where your clothes are as soon as you give me an acceptable date.”
“I told ye I’d help ye pick out a suitable wife.”
“I want you.”
“Why?”
