Page 121 of To Wed an Heiress
“You could consider it my dowry. After all, you’re an earl and I’m just a commoner.”
“I’ve never met anyone less common than you,” he said. “Very well, Your Ladyship, I will accept your fortune and do with it as you wish.”
“Perhaps we could build a dock next to the tower,” she suggested. “And add on to the kitchen.”
She wasn’t able to tell him any further ideas because he was kissing her. Every thought flew out of her head, replaced by pleasure.
She had been thirsty before. Or hungry for food. She had never craved touch like she did now. For a week she’d wanted Lennox to touch her, to stroke his hands over her skin, and explore her intimately.
It was a race to see who could get their clothes off first.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“You cheated,” she said when Lennox simply pulled a few folds loose and the kilt fell to the floor.
Her eyes widened.
“Never ask a Scot what he wears beneath the kilt,” he said with a grin.
His jacket was next, followed by his shirt and there he was, standing naked but for his shoes and socks.
The Highland night had not yet fallen which meant that there was ample light to see him.
“You’re beautiful,” she said.
“You’ve got to stop saying things like that, Mercy,” he said, shaking his head.
“I think not. You are beautiful, in a masculine sort of way, of course.”
“You’re the one who’s beautiful.” He came and stood in front of her, his fingers working her buttons so much faster than she could.
She stood motionless as he stripped her, dropping her garments on the chair beside the bed.
“I’ll have to borrow your shirt,” she said. “I’ve none of my baggage.”
He stopped what he was doing. “An heiress with no clothing. You’re a continual paradox, Your Ladyship.”
“That sounds so odd,” she said. “I think I like wife better.”
“What about my love?”
Her heart turned over in her chest. “That’s even better.”
He bent to remove her stockings and a minute later she was completely naked. He took her hand, but instead of leading her to the bed, he twirled her in front of him.
“You’re beautiful everywhere, my love.”
“As are you.”
She had no idea if other couples divested themselves of their modesty along with their clothing. It seemed so natural for her to allow Lennox to look his fill. They were husband and wife. He had already labeled her his love and that’s exactly what he was to her. Why should there be any reticence between people who loved each other?
He still held her hand as he walked to the four-poster. Instead of using the small set of steps, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up to the mattress.
As she sat in front of him, she reached down and touched him, her curiosity growing as he did.
“I’ve seen naked men before,” she said, “but only in statue form.” Her lips quirked. “Most of the time they had fig leaves in strategic places. Except once. One day my parents took me to a museum. We walked into a large room with a soaring arched ceiling. The space was filled with three rows of Grecian and Roman statues. The third statue I saw was a man who’d been depicted standing, legs apart, holding a discus. My mother took one look at the statue and whisked me out of the room.”
“I take it there was no fig leaf in evidence?”
