She swallowed hard. “I think you should kiss me now.”

He pressed his lips to hers so fast that the last words came out muffled. And with that connection the dam that had been barely holding back her want of him sank out of sight.

He turned to her and took her face in his hands and showered her mouth and face with kisses, some careful, others less so. His quick passion said he had not been nearly as blasé the last half hour as he had appeared.

He embraced her and kissed her neck, her shoulder, the bit of skin visible above her pelisse. She knew these pleasures and relinquished herself to them. She enjoyed the sly titillations perking in her blood, and the joyous freedom the sensations gave her.

Even while they kissed he managed to shake off his coats. She felt his body then, strong and hard beneath his shirt. His cravat disappeared and she ventured a small kiss on his neck. He held her there, asking for more, while his hand went to the buttons on her pelisse.

She looked down at that hand, then around the chamber. “Do you think to do this here?”

Calmer kisses. Soothing ones. “Not unless you want to.”

The carpet, while expensive and thick, did not appear very comfortable. “I do not think it wise.”

One deep look in her eyes, and he lifted her by the hand. “Come with me.”

He did not lead her far. His chambers spread over one floor of a house, so his bedchamber could be found nearby. They passed a back stairs and went a little farther. He opened a door, then released her hand while he turned and worked the latch.

It was a nice chamber. Masculine. Large enough but not excessive. Just right for one person, she thought. A little old in style, with dark wood panels coming up half the walls and also forming the bed. Shadows tried to rise in her memory when she looked at that bed, but she filled her gaze and thoughts with other things.

Simple white drapes framed the windows and bedposts. None of it surprised her. It looked like him. He would not concern himself much with fashion. His garments were current, but his haberdasher probably claimed credit.

He closed another door. She saw beyond it enough to know it was his dressing room.

“Do you want me to undress?” she asked.

“Just stay there.” He took a key off his writing table and locked the dressing room. Then he stripped off his cravat.

They faced each other across the chamber. The bed loomed. The one lamp’s glow turned the white drapes golden. Her heart rose to her throat. He appeared so handsome there, with the low light flattering his face and form. Strong and deliciously masculine.

“Now you can undress.”

While he watched, apparently.