her shoulder, his thumb brushing the prominent line of her collarbone. Her skin was flushed, and her breath suspended, so he continued talking just to reassure her.
“Some nakedness is required, Helaine. But you can trust me.”
Then he leaned forward and began kissing along her neck. The position was awkward as she was sitting before him, her legs tucked to the side. But he managed to do what he needed. He pressed tiny kisses along her collarbone, to her sternum, then eventually to the top of her breast, where the gown restrained him.
He felt her relax into his attention, her breath easing out on a long sigh of delight. So he decided to be bolder. He lifted his hands, cupped a breast with one hand while the other tugged her gown down to her waist. Then, before she could react, he caught one pert nipple in his mouth and began to suck.
He could tell no one had done such a thing to her ever before. She perhaps had never even conceived that a man could do this. Her body arched as if it had been struck by lightning. Her hands rose immediately to his shoulders, holding him tightly.
He did not stop, did not release her. He began to suck in rhythmic timing that had her swaying forward and back in time to his motions. While one hand lifted her breast into the better position for his mouth, the other boldly gripped her free nipple and began to squeeze it.
She began to shake, her body coming alive beneath his mouth and hand. It was the work of a moment to ease her down to the floor, though he had to scramble at the last moment to cushion her head with the pillow. Now he had full movement with her reclined and him on his knees above her. There was so much he could do to her from this vantage point. But instead of pursuing her down, he took a moment to look at her.
She was naked from the waist up, and the fire continued to touch her skin with golden light. The rosy blush of her skin, the lifted puckering of her nipples, and the slightly dazed look in her eyes had his blood demanding more.
“Lift your hips,” he said, his hands going to where her dress pooled about her hips. “Let me see you naked.”
Her eyes widened, the dazed confusion rapidly shifting to alarm. “Robert…,” she began, but he wasn’t listening. He had the strength and the leverage he needed. He knew how to do this. His work with the patients at the Chandler had long since taught him how to quickly and efficiently strip a woman. So he did.
He pushed his hands beneath her slender body, looped his thumbs into the curve of her gown, and stripped the thing away. Between one breath and the next, her dress was gone. Except for her stockings and shoes, she was naked and laid out before him for the taking.
Chapter 13
She scrambled backward, but wasn’t fast enough. He clamped a hand on her ankle, and his dark eyes widened in surprise.
“Helaine?” he asked, his voice frighteningly soft. “Where are you going?”
“No,” she said as she struggled futilely to free her foot. “No, you have gone too far.”
His nostrils flared and his hand tightened on her ankle. “Too far? I have done nothing you did not want or allow.”
She frowned, damning herself for daring to believe this was possible. That she could enjoy the company of a man without it turning ugly. “Not me, you dolt,” she snapped. “You have lost control of yourself; you have gone too far in your own mind. Now let go!”
She kicked hard with her foot. She meant to simply jerk her ankle out of his hand, but she connected with his hip in the process. Her toes crumpled against his bone, and he grunted at the impact. Sadly, it did nothing to help her escape. If anything, his hand gripped even tighter.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “I am no different than I was a moment before. If you will just relax, then you will see.”
She grimaced. His tone, his touch, even the tight grip to her fingers told her he’d lost patience. He’d forgotten about her entirely and the thought made her infinitely sad. Furious, too, but sad as well. For a while there, she had thought they could be friends.
“You have forgotten yourself, Robert,” she said slowly. Gently. As one would talk to a rabid dog because, in her mind, that was exactly what he had become. “I am sorry for what has happened, but you need to release me.” She straightened up, all too conscious that she was virtually naked. “Let go of my ankle or I shall scream.”
He reared back. “The devil you say!”
“And if you hit me, I shall have bruises that your sister will see. I might even now have them on my ankle.”
That hit him far more than anything else. His hand jerked back as if she burned him, and then he gazed hard at where his fingers had wrapped around her body. There were no marks, except perhaps a reddened imprint. She was sturdier than that. But it gave her enough freedom to scoot backward and grab her shift. The dress was behind him and out of her reach.
“Helaine,” he said, the word half plea, half apology, but she knew better than to believe him now.
She lifted her shift, damning her hands for how they shook. It took her a moment to sort through the fabric, and then she nearly cried. The shift was ripped and would never be worn again. It was old and meant for the rag bin anyway, but she had precious few of them and mourned the loss of even this.
How had she allowed herself to be so seduced? He had ripped her clothing and tossed aside her dress, and he hadn’t done anything more than pull off his cravat. That alone showed her how far outside of her depth she had gone. What had she been thinking to come to him like this? To lie with him even a little?
“God, I am such a fool,” she said. She balled up her shift into one hand, then gestured to her gown. She had learned from experience with her father that a firm, calm hand was needed when he was deeply in his cups. “Hand me my gown, please, Robert.”
He complied, passing over her clothing with a slow hand. His expression was serious, though, and he appeared to be thinking furiously.
“I don’t understand what just happened,” he said.
She was on her feet already, quickly pulling the gown over her head. The buttons down the back were another problem altogether, but she could manage a few of them. The rest would have to be covered beneath her wrap.
“Turn around. I can do them for you.” His words were simple, his expression calm. He was back in control of himself. She saw that now, but she didn’t trust that it would last.
He must have seen that hesitation because he sighed and shook his head even as he pushed to his feet.
“I assure you, I can restrain myself from ravishing you for the time it takes to fasten a few buttons.”
Yes, he could, but she was not at all sure she wanted to get that close to him. After all, her skin still shimmered with an awareness of him that was wholly unwelcome at the moment. But neither did she want to leave with her gown half done. So she slowly approached him and turned around.
Her back muscles twitched when he put his fingers to her skin. He didn’t work the buttons at all, just set the pads of three fingers against her spine.
“Passion demands some loss of control. Indeed, I believe that is the point. To be swept away.”
“You promised to sweep me away, my lord,” she returned. “One of us had to remain in control. You lost yours, therefore—”
“That is not how passion works.”
She thought about it a moment and had to admit he was probably right. Meanwhile, he lifted his fingers
