unreadable expression.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I’m wondering how it is that you manage to set me on fire even while you stand two dozen feet away and I’m submerged in water.”
Before he could decide which surprised him more-her reply or the smoky voice in which she delivered it-she cut off any hope of him speaking by slowly rising. Water sluiced down her body, a shimmering waterfall cast in gold by the firelight. His gaze meandered down the length of her and desire hit him low and hard.
He had to swallow twice to find his voice. “I’m not certain if ‘rise from a steaming pool like an enchanting water nymph’ was listed in your
“It’s not listed, but I’ll make a note in the margin.” She gracefully stepped from the tub then walked slowly toward him, her hips gently swaying, bewitching him with each step, with the half bold, half shy look gleaming in her eyes. She halted when only an arm’s length separated them. Everything in him craved to yank her against him, crush her to him with all the randy fervor of a green lad. He pulled in a slow, deep breath to calm his hammering heart, but that only served to fill his head with the delicate scent of roses.
“I thought you said it was into the bed for me,” she whispered. “That I needed to rest.”
“It is into the bed for you. But not quite yet.” His gaze moved over her with a hunger he fiercely fought to tamp down. Their eyes met, and his heart tripped at the arousal he read there. A touch of shyness, yes, but his Victoria was no coward.
Dangerous, unsettling words. For she wasn’t his. Would never be his for more than a few stolen moments. But for these stolen moments she was, so he’d worry about that later. “The proverb claims that ‘Revenge is sweet,’” he said in a rough whisper. “Let’s see if it really is.”
Clasping her hand, he led her toward the far corner of the room, stopping in front of the oval, full-length cheval glass. Standing between her and the mirror, he brushed his fingers over her smooth, flushed cheek. “I want to touch you, Victoria.” Even as he said the words, it struck him that this wild, urgent turbulence roaring through him was more than simply a “want” to touch her. It was a
He stepped around her to stand directly behind her. “I want you to see me touch you.”
Victoria stood perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe as she took in the sight of herself, naked, and Nathan standing behind her. The vision simultaneously shocked and aroused her. She made an unconscious move to cover herself, but he caught her hands from behind and shook his head. “No,” he whispered against her temple. “Don’t hide from me. Or yourself.”
A full-body blush engulfed her and she locked her knees to keep her balance. She’d stood naked before her bedchamber mirror on numerous occasions, studying her form, running her hands experimentally over her body, her curiosity burning. What would it feel like to be touched by a man? And not just any man.
He reached up and gently pulled the pins from her hair, letting them fall to the carpet. Her haphazard pile of curls unfurled, falling over his hands and her shoulders, rippling down her back to her waist. Lightly clasping her upper arms, he leaned forward and buried his face against her hair. “Roses,” he whispered. Somehow she found her voice. “It’s my favorite scent.” His gaze met hers in the mirror. “It’s now mine, as well.” The warmth of his hands on her skin, the heat emanating from his body, enveloped her like a velvet cloak. Heart pounding, breaths coming in choppy pants, she struggled to maintain some semblance of outward calm, but her efforts proved futile. Dear God, the way he was looking at her… no man had ever looked at her like this before. She supposed because she spent all her time in polite society, and there was nothing polite about the intensely carnal desire glittering in Nathan’s eyes.
Dressed all in black, his face cast in starkly contrasting panes of shadow and light from the fire, he looked like the swashbuckling pirate she’d once imagined him-devastatingly attractive, wholly masculine, and just a bit dangerous. God help her, she couldn’t wait to see, to feel, what he planned next.
He brushed her hair aside with one hand, exposing the back of her neck, while his other hand stole around her waist and pressed her gently back, erasing whatever space had remained between them. His body touched hers, from shoulder to knee, the hard ridge of his erection nudging against her buttocks. Heat emanated from him, infusing her with a flood of warmth. Bending his head, he kissed the back of her neck.
She watched, transfixed, as his fingertips settled on her neck then slowly dragged downward, dipping into the shallow hollow at the base of her throat, which quivered in betrayal of her rapid pulse. He’d barely begun and already she was lost.
Settling his palms on her shoulders, he skimmed his hands down to hers and entwined their fingers. Then he lifted her hands up and back, around his neck. “Hold on,” he said, his voice rough velvet. She did as he bid, clasping her fingers together at his nape, grateful for something to hold on to.
He settled his warm lips against her temple, then slowly trailed his fingers down her upraised arms. A thousand pleasurable tingles shot over her skin, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder, watching his clever, long-fingered hands, so dark against her much paler skin, embark upon an agonizingly slow exploration, as if he meant to memorize every pore, every freckle, building an unbearable need in her.
He splayed one hand on her chest and whispered against her temple, “Your heart is pounding.”
The same words she’d said to him, she realized. “Surely that doesn’t surprise you,” she said, mimicking the response he’d given her.
She felt his smile, but her attention was riveted to the sight, the feel, of his hands, slipping lower, lightly brushing over her breasts. Her breath caught and her eyes slid closed.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he said, his warm breath brushing by her ear. “Watch how beautiful you are.” She watched his large hands cup her breasts, teasing her nipples into aching points, rolling the aroused peaks slowly between his fingers. A long purr of pleasure vibrated in her throat. Unclasping her hands, she combed her fingers through the thick dark silk of his hair and arched her back, offering more of herself, an invitation he immediately took advantage of.
His lips wandered down her neck, alternating between lazy kisses and velvety strokes of his tongue. Indeed, all of his caresses were languid, indolent, a shocking contrast to the sharp-edged need spearing through her.
“Nathan…” She breathed out his name in a long sigh and squirmed against him, impatient, wanting. He sucked in a sharp breath and pressed himself closer against her back, nestling the hard length of his erection more firmly between her buttocks.
“Patience, love,” he rasped against her ear.
While one hand continued to caress her breasts, his other hand continued its breathtaking descent, over her stomach, learning the curve of her waist, circling, then dipping into the sensitive hollow of her navel. Then lower, his fingertips grazing the triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs.
“Spread your legs for me, Victoria.”
She obeyed, then watched, breathless and entranced as his fingers dipped lower and caressed her feminine folds. That first touch stunned her, then it was as if the floodgates of sensation opened, saturating her in awareness of her own body, her muscles straining closer to him, her hips undulating against his hand. His fingers slid over an exquisitely sensitive spot, pulling a deep moan from her throat. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror who stared out of eyelids drooped heavy with arousal, her pale skin entwined by strong, sinewy, golden brown forearms and relentless, magical fingers. The woman looked wanton and carnal. Voluptuous. Wicked.
His fingers dipped lower, caressing her with a slow circular motion that threatened to drive her mad. “I told you,” he said in a husky rasp against her neck, “that me kneeling before you was a sight you would never see. Do you remember?”
Dear God, surely he didn’t expect her to be able to answer questions? “Yes,” she managed, the word ending on a breathless sigh of pleasure.
“You said, ‘Never say never,’ and you were right.” He slid his hands from her body and a groan of protest rose
