Page 45 of The Marquess Method
“But most ladies would have suggested a tavern maid.” He smiled again.
“I’m not trying to amuse you.” That smile did things to Theo. Lovely things.
“Banish such thoughts. There was only a merchant, as it happens. Mr. Barnaby. I would have asked him for a kiss, but he has a huge wart above his lip.” Haven gave a mock shudder. “He’s from Warwick, which is close to Greenbriar. Married with ten children. Very prolific is Mr. Barnaby. In spite of the wart. I suppose his wife doesn’t mind.”
Haven was utterly breathtaking when he looked at her as he was doing now, heat banked in the depths of green, the light playing over the tiny bump in his nose. There was no practiced flirtation with him, no overly charming manner or platitudes. Nothing but his potent maleness to recommend him. She wondered how many women had taken one look at his rough attractiveness, listened to his wicked, gravelly voice, and fallen into bed with him.
Scores. Theo was certain she was going to be one of them.
Waves of russet hair danced against his broad shoulders as he peered at the tub. “You’re very tempting, Theodosia,” he whispered, the words sliding into the bath water with her. “Despite being wrinkled like a wizened apple. Must be my lustful nature which makes you seem so.”
She settled down further in the tub, realizing her nipples were visible above the sparse bubbles and that he was staring at them with the same look he’d given his plate at breakfast this morning.
Anticipation slowly curled down her naked body.
Haven sauntered toward her, his bare feet making no sound on the wood floor. “Shall we be truthful again, Theo?”
She snuck a look at his feet, wishing there were more bubbles left floating on the surface of the water. Of all the things Theo had considered about Haven, she hadn’t once thought of his feet. And they were rather nice. She shut her eyes against the sight. What was wrong with her if she could be undone by the very sight of a man’s toes?
“Theo?”
“You’ve lovely feet,” she whispered, opening her eyes.
Haven burst into laughter. “Good Lord. I really should take the wine from you. I’m missing part of my little toe on one foot.”
Peering over the edge of the tub, she took in his feet and toes. They looked perfectly normal to her. But things were fuzzy. She blamed the lighting in the room and her lack of spectacles.
A small growl came from him.
Theo had forgotten how exposed she was in this stupid little tub. Haven was watching her with a heavy-lidded look, all smoldering heat and intent. He started unbuttoning his shirt, eyes never leaving hers.
Did he mean to join her?The tub was barely large enough for her.
The fabric of his shirt opened, displaying a wide swath of muscles rippling beneath supple skin. Hair a shade darker than his head spread across the upper part of his torso, across clearly defined lines of sinew. The hair trailed down around his navel before disappearing into the edge of his trousers. She stared at his navel, wondering how in the world he didn’t carry any extra padding there, considering his appetite. But his trousers hung low against the harsh cut of his hipbone, creating a lovely line of shadow.
“It’s me, you know. Haven.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her eyes.
It was becoming difficult for her to breathe with Haven and all hisnear-naked magnificence. Yes, she found Haven handsome. Appealing. But now, looking at the way the firelight played over the hard ridges of his body, Theo felt as if she was heating slowly from the inside out, her skin sensitive to the brush of every bubble in her bath.
Haven kneeled at the tub, drawing his face so close to her, their noses nearly touched. “Did you think of me while soaking in your bath, Theodosia?”
“Of course not,” she whispered, wishing he didn’t smell so delicious. “I thought of Blythe.” Theo didn’t know why she’d said such a thing except she was feeling somewhat abandoned by Haven and part of her wanted to hurt him. The truth was, Blythe hadn’t once entered her thoughts today.
“I wasn’t ignoring you, Theo.” There was a brief flash of anger in his moss-green eyes before his finger traced lazily along her arm. “Nor overlooking you. I thought you might want to relax in a bath without me here. Have a meal because you must be starving. But I suppose we should just get on with the consummation.” He nosed into the nape of her shoulder, sending a ripple down her spine. His voice was chilly when he spoke again. “If only so your prick of a brother doesn’t try to take your dowry back.”
And she’d been just about to apologize for mentioning Blythe. “My brother isn’t a prick, you bloody—”
“You’ve such a mouth on you, Theodosia. I always suspected it. Ever since I heard the vile curses spilling from you when you couldn’t find the miniature in Blythe’s study. Noinnocentyoung miss for my wife.”
There was an edge to his words, as if he were questioning her character. Theo opened her mouth to defend herself but instead said, “Fortune hunter. Gambling marquess from an impoverished family. Prone to fighting like a common mongrel in the streets. Which, by the way, is how you approach a plate of food.”
“I always find it interesting,” Haven replied casually, pools of green threatening to drown her. “Miss Emersonneverhad so many complaints about me. She was quite heartbroken I wasforcedto marry you.”
Theo’s fingers gripped the side of the tub. “Poor thing. She might be stunning and can walk across a room without tripping, but Miss Emerson exhibits poor taste.”
Haven pushed a soap bubble away from one breast. There was a smile tugging at his lips.
“Very well, do your worst, Haven. Get it over with,” she said, but there was no bite to her words. Theo didn’t want to argue with him. Honestly, she didn’t. Not after he confessed that he thought about kissing her all the time. And she really didn’t think he’d been downstairs seducing a buxom widow. Theo opened one eye. “It isn’t required that I have to watch, is it?”
