Page 79 of In Need of a Duke
“So formal,” she chided.
“Should I get to the point?” he asked, drawing away enough so he could look at her.
“Yes. You do so strive to be efficient.”
“Take off your clothes, Charlotte.”
She wiggled back across the mattress, so playful and teasing. Christ, it had been too long since he had seen her this way.
He dove into the bed to steal another kiss, and she squealed, grabbing a pillow and whacking it across his face before falling into a peal of laughter.
The sweetest sound, second to her moan.
He grabbed her ankle and pulled gently until he could grip her waist, and she quieted, staring up at him. Only the sound of them catching their breaths filled the room as their shoulders rose and fell.
“I was such a fool,” he said, brushing his hand through her hair. He hated himself as soon as he said it, fearing it would only spur her to withdraw.
Instead, she laughed.
“Aren’t most men fools?”
“At some… yes,” he said, settling for the easy answer. He would like to have more stock in his own sex, and while they did possess power in this world, they were unequal to a woman.
She rolled away from him, shaking off his touch and stretching. Then she grabbed the first box and glanced at the ribbon.
“Mrs. Blanchet makes the most beautiful gowns for Lady Ogden.”
He remained beside her on the bed, watching her reaction as she opened the box and discovered a yellow gown inside.
“Yellow?”
He shrugged. “I think of you often in that yellow gown.”
“My mother made me wear that gown. I couldn’t stand the color.”
His heart sank. “Well now?”
“I can’t wear the color without remembering that night.” She heldup the gown, admiring the beautiful details. “I can’t imagine any other will be any better.”
“Try it on,” he urged.
“Very well.” She turned and lifted her hair to reveal the nape of her neck. “Can you help me unfasten my gown?”
“Hmm.” He set his hand at the base of her neck and gently rubbed his thumb up and down along the sliver of exposed skin. “I think I prefer ties. These buttons…”
“Too tricky? I can ring for Susan.”
“Under no circumstances are you to ring for Susan.” She softly chuckled at his curtness. “A few buttons won’t deter me.”
“Such fortitude.”
“Stubbornness, more like.” He slipped the buttons through the buttonholes and carefully peeled the fabric down to her shoulders.
Charlotte remained still. Plenty of times he had dreamt of this small, precise act, and doing it all over again, especially as husband and wife. The last time, he had stripped her to her underthings, never turning her to face him, then left her alone to stand there waiting.
And humiliated.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “We will pretend I never broke your heart.”
