Watching as Hadrian stripped off his coat and dropped it onto a chair, she felt on fire with nervous anticipation. He removed his waistcoat, too, leaving him clad in only a white cambric shirt tucked into dark trousers. Her heart beat faster at the sight of his strong, muscled form.

Natalie realized this wouldn’t be like the other time when he’d simply reached beneath her skirts. Instead of gawking, she, too, ought to be undressing. Taking her cue from him, she stepped out of her shoes, turning away to place them neatly by the wall before stretching her arms to reach the buttons at the back of her gown.

She sensed his presence behind her in the instant before he spoke. “Allow me.”

He undid the row of tiny gold buttons, pausing now and then to kiss her exposed skin. Wanton yearning swept away all trace of misgivings in her. When the gown lay open to her waist, he untied her stays and then worked his hands inside the loosened garments. He cupped her bare breasts and feathered his thumbs over the tips. As ribbons of heat unfurled downward to feed the fire in her depths, Natalie sighed in pure delight.

Her knees wobbly, she leaned back against his chest, tilting her head to tuck it into the crook of his neck. “Mm, Hadrian.”

His lips nuzzled her cheek, his fingers continuing their skillful stroking. “So many times I’ve imagined doing this,” he murmured. “Undressing you, holding you, learning every inch of your beautiful body.”

“I confess to harboring such thoughts about you, too. Though perhaps a lady shouldn’t speak of such matters.”

From behind, Hadrian divested her of gown and corset, leaving her clad in only scanty lingerie. “There is only one rule in the bedchamber. That we are to give each other pleasure.”

He turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders. His gaze lowered to the filmy chemise that allowed him a titillating glimpse of her breasts and hips. The hot gleam of appreciation in his eyes awakened Natalie to an awareness of her own sensual powers. If she had enjoyed watching him remove his coat and waistcoat, perhaps the tables could be turned.

When he reached for the undergarment, she batted his hands away. “Not yet, Your Grace.”

She sauntered to the bed, braced her foot on the edge of the mattress, and drew the hem of her chemise to mid-thigh. To her gratification, he paced after her with all the keen interest of a stallion following a mare in heat. Folding his arms, he leaned against the bedpost to watch. She took her time untying her garters and then rolling down her stocking. As she tossed the scrap of white silk in his direction, he reflexively caught it in his fist.

Natalie felt a little anxious that he might find her behavior too bold. But his face wore a look of stunned hunger, encouraging her to perform the same ritual on her other leg. She sent that stocking fluttering at him as well.