Page 37 of The Phantom Duke
What am I doing? Behaving like a seductress is what I am doing! Theodora would be utterly horrified.
She sat on the end of her bed, trying to calm her racing heart. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she noticed that her nipples stood proud against the thin material. At first, she covered them, but touching them brought a wave of pleasure that made her squirm. She imagined Damien touching them, first through the silk and then lifting it to place his hand directly on her skin.
Her face bloomed scarlet at the thought, and she placed her hands by her sides. On impulse, she went to the sideboard and poured herself another glass of wine. It helped her fortitude. She gulped half the glass in one swallow when she heard the outer door of her suite of rooms opening.
He does not even knock!
“Damien? Is that you?” Maria asked, wishing that her voice did not tremble so much.
Damien let his footsteps speak for him as he approached the closed door of her bedroom. Maria raced to it and seized the doorknob, suddenly gripped by panic, the warm effect of the wine vanishing. It turned in her hand, and she tightened her grip, stopping it.
“I asked you a question,” she said.
“Yes,” Damien replied, “let me in.”
“No,” Maria said.
“Why?”
“I…I do not know,” Maria admitted.
“Because you are afraid,” Damien said.
His voice was low and unbearably masculine. It reverberated through her. She pressed herself against the door and heard it creak from the other side, as though Damien had pressed his hands against the paneling.
Suddenly, she became conscious that only the thin wood stood between her body and his touch. Her breasts were pressed hard against the door. She heard the sound of his fingers stroking the wood, an inch away from her tender and vulnerable body.
“Do I have a reason to be afraid?” she asked.
“Are you a maiden?”
“Of course, I am! What manner of question is that?” Maria demanded. “How dare you impugn my honor?”
In her anger, seeing insult in his question, she wrenched the door open. He stood with one hand out, which had been pressed against the door where her breasts had been. Maria swallowed, lifted her chin and faced him with as much dignity as she could muster.
Even though I am barefoot and almost naked before him. Even though my breasts might as well be bare, and if I turn, this gown will not leave much to the imagination. Oh, Evelina, you have a lot to answer for, giving me this dratted garment!
The nightgown had not seemed quite so scandalous until she was alone with her husband. Now, it was as though she wore next to nothing!
Damien advanced into the room, swinging the door closed with an idle sweep of his hand. Maria backed away until her heel touched the bed.
“Did you know your shadow could be seen through that window?” he asked.
Maria looked to the open window and the bar of golden light that spilled out.
“My…shadow?” She imagined herself standing there, stripping naked, confident that no one could see but the tree.
“Why? Were you spying on me?” she demanded.
“Sitting innocently in my room reading,” Damien replied. “My room is directly above yours.”
“Reading? Was my shadow projected across the pages then?” Maria replied, trying to recover her equilibrium.
“It distracted me from the book,” Damien replied, “and once distracted, I could not look away from your…performance.”
There was the ghost of a smile on his face. He was close enough that she could smell the soap he had used when bathing. A clean, woody scent clinging to him. The leather of his mask. It was an intoxicating blend that made Maria’s head spin. Like everything about him, it was so very masculine. It spoke to her on a deep level, setting off a resonance at the heart of her womanhood.
“I did not perform. For you or anyone else!” Maria shot back.
