Page 35 of Almost a Bride
She looked disgusted with him, and suddenly he noticed the blush stealing up her neck and reddening her pale skin. She was embarrassed—he could hardly allow her to back down now.
“Go ahead, Lady Roselyn.”
“Stop calling me that,” she said crossly.
“I cannot show you the respect of your rank?”
“Not when you don’t mean it—and I do not go by my title anymore.”
“But I heard my bailiff call you that.”
“Let us go back now,” she said sternly, marching up to slide her shoulders beneath his arm.
Spencer didn’t quite know what came over him: he caught her against his side and held her still, until she looked up at him with wide, astonished eyes. He should avoid the subject of these recent London scandals, but he wanted to see how shocked she would be to repeat them.
“The rumors?” he prompted. Standing so close to her, he suddenly realized he could see the faint shadow of the valley between her breasts.
Color blazed across her face again, and she stared straight ahead, not up at him. “What were you thinking of to send such a statue to Her Majesty?”
That distracted him from his earthy, dangerous perusal of her. What statue? What had his brother done in Spencer’s name?
His mind worked frantically. “How can one enjoy life without causing an occasional shock at court?”
“But a statue of yourself?” she said, clearly aghast, as her wide gray eyes lifted to his.
He allowed himself a smile, while inside he was laughing.Oh, Alex,he thought with grudging respect. “Well, the queen always said I had a fetching profile.”
She made a strangled, choking sound. “Thornton, how many innocent young girls do you think this statue corrupted with yournakedprofile?”
Chapter 11
Naked?Spencer barely held back a choked laugh, yet he didn’t release Roselyn. He held her body firmly against his.
“And the wings!” she continued, rolling her eyes. “Even the queen cannot find your behavior angelic.”
He tried to picture the incredible sight of Queen Elizabeth holding a naked statue of an angel that resembled him. Roselyn didn’t know her very well if she thought the old girl would be offended. More than likely, the statue held a place of honor at court that day.
Buthefelt embarrassed. Alex had always been willing to go one step further than Spencer in whatever mischief they created.
He imagined Roselyn’s reaction if she’d actually seen the statue; he would have taken dark pleasure in her prim outrage.
“Are you shocked?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice.
The light played across her face between the shadow of the leaves. Again, he found his gaze straying to her breasts, small but so perfectly formed. For a moment he wondered what she would do if he caressed them—as was his right.
She took a deep breath, and her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Nothing you do shocks me.”
“No?”
The nerve of her, to challenge him so! They stood side by side, pressed together from thigh to hip to shoulder. He could tell he unsettled her, by the way she moistened her lips and refused to break away from his gaze. How much further could he affect her—even to the point of desire? He looked into the depths of her eyes and thought he could use this attraction simmering between them, tease her until she found out what she had missed, arouse her until she could think of nothing but him—and then reject her, as she had done to him.
He pretended to stumble forward, and she turned to brace him, obviously without thinking. Their bodies met in a frontal assault, her breasts pressing low against his chest. His hands naturally dropped to her waist, and through her thin gown he could feel the delicate bones of her hips which flared out with feminine appeal. Whatever else she was, Roselyn Harrington felt like a woman.
Spencer thought for certain she would step away, but she lingered, seeming flustered and unprepared. Her hands came to rest against his chest, and he imagined them sliding up behind his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss—
They both broke away at the same moment.
“We should be returning,” she said in that prim, controlled voice of hers.
