“Excellent,” she said, going to sit on it.

He walked to stand in front of her, his hands on his hips. She drew her gaze up and down his body, biting her lip as she contemplated his size.

“Well? Do you like what you see?” he said in a confident voice.

“You know I do.” She nodded toward him. “Take your clothes off.”

He immediately began to shrug out of his jacket, then tossed it onto the floor.

She brought her hands to her back to begin her buttons, but stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I want to take care of that,” he said in a husky growl.

“Oh,” she sighed, leaning back on her elbows. “Well, then, proceed.”

He undid his cravat, then yanked his shirt from his trousers, brought it over his head, and dropped it on top of the jacket that lay on the floor.

My goodness, his chest was impressive, she thought to herself. Her mouth got dry.

He had a dark dusting of hair on his upper body, the hair trailing down the middle to where it disappeared into his trousers. His stomach muscles were delineated, so much so that she could nearly count them. His arms were equally impressive, corded with muscle.

He bent over to undo his boots, and she glimpsed something on his back.

She stared, then hopped off the bed and stepped around him to see.

“Oh my lord,” she breathed. “You have a tattoo.”

“I do,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Do you like it?”

Did she like it. What kind of question was that? Of course she liked it.

It was a ship, one that covered his entire back. She put her hands on his shoulders—goodness, they were strong—and then skimmed her fingers down his back, marveling at the detail.

“This is gorgeous,” she said. “How did you decide what to get?”

“A full-rigged ship like that one means the person has sailed around Cape Horn.”

“I don’t even know where Cape Horn is,” she admitted.

“It’s at the bottom of South America. Very treacherous passage there.”

“Oh,” she said, tracing her fingers on the sails.

He turned, wrapping her in his arms. “While I appreciate that you are touching me, and admiring my masculine beauty, I would far rather we were together on that bed over there. You can take a look at my ink when you’ve rendered me speechless.”

She grinned up at him. “I know another way to make you speechless,” she said, raising her mouth to his.

They were kissing again. Only this time it was both more intense and more leisurely—knowing what was going to happen, but also knowing they had time. He explored her mouth with his tongue, and she did the same, her hands clutching his arms, sliding up and down their expanse.