Page 76 of How the Earl Entices

Ross tensed in surprise. Yet he said nothing as he continued to study her, those blue eyes shining black in the shadows. Each passing beat of silence came as a tortuous thump inside her aching chest, increasing her nervousness until it blossomed into hot embarrassment.

She turned her head away to hide her humiliation. Oh, what a fool she was!

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, blinking furiously to keep back the tears. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

In answer, he took her chin in his hand and lifted her face as his lips came down tenderly onto hers. The gentleness of his kiss stole her breath away.

“Yes, you should have, and I’m damn glad you did.” Taking her hand, he moved back a few feet to sit on the bed. “Because it means you finally trust me.” With a soft tug, he drew her forward between his knees. “As much as I trust you.”

“I do.” She placed her hands on his broad shoulders in order to ground herself as her mind spun, making her light-headed. All of her tingled with the faint stirrings of happiness that were coming to her slowly after so many years of loneliness and distrust.

“But we’re a long way from safe.” Although his words were meant as a warning, his deep voice curled an intensifying heat low in her belly. “Even if I’m exonerated, the scandal will linger. Any influence I had in Parliament is gone now.” His eyes grew bleak. “I might prove more of a hindrance than a help.”

How wrong he was! Just having him with her, giving her his strength and steadfastness, would help her more than he would ever know. A smile tugged at her lips, and her hand slipped down his chest to the buttons of his waistcoat as she kissed him.

“I’ve come to appreciate the value of your hindrances,” she murmured against his lips.

From the way his frown deepened, she knew he wasn’t reassured.

He tilted back his head to gaze up at her as his arms encircled her and gently pulled her closer. The sobriety in his eyes rippled uneasiness through her, and reflexively, her fingers tightened their hold on him.

“What do I call you now?” he puzzled softly, his deep voice contemplative as he searched her features. “You’re not really Grace, but to me, you’re also not Susan.”

She shook her head as she unbuttoned his waistcoat and slipped it from his shoulders. “It doesn’t signify.”

“It does if—”

With a kiss, she silenced him. “It doesn’t signify. I’m the same woman.” Prompting him to raise his arms, she lifted his shirt over his head and off, tossing it away to the floor. She needed to be close to him, to make love to him again. This time, completely as herself. “No matter what you call me.”

He arched a brow. “Truly?”

“Absolutely.” Her hands roamed over the muscular planes of his chest, sifting through the dusting of hair and down over the hard ridges of his abdomen. Sweet heavens, he was magnificent. Every inch of him simply begged to be explored. Would she ever grow tired of looking at him? Of touching him or tasting him? With a wanton smile, she leaned down to place a kiss to the center of his chest, and the tip of her tongue darted out to lick—

“I’ve always liked the name Martha.”

She froze for a beat. Then she stood up straight and smacked him on the shoulder with her palm. “Ross Carlisle, don’t think for one moment that athirdname—”

With a rumbling laugh, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down across his lap. His eyes sparkled with wicked amusement right before his mouth covered hers, kissing her so intensely that he drew a moan from her lips. When he looked at her like that, he didn’t see her scar—he saw the woman beneath. One who was strong and confident, unmarred by her past. She thrilled with it.

“It’s my turn to make a confession,” he murmured against her shoulder as he nudged back the neck of her night rail and danced kisses across her collarbone. “About something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

She exhaled a shivering sigh when he licked down into the valley between her breasts, as far as the night rail’s neckline would allow yet still several agonizing inches from her taut nipples that ached to be between his lips. “What?”

“This.” His hands slipped beneath the hem of her night rail and began to explore her body. “There’s something about you in this frumpy old nightgown that drives me mad.”

“Silver-tongued devil,” she panted out teasingly as his low laugh rumbled into her.

With his caresses hidden from her eyes beneath the tent-like yards of cotton, his seeking hands gave her touches that left her yearning for more. Tender and gentle yet persistent, he stroked up the outsides of her bare legs, along the side of her torso, and up to lightly trace over the side swells of her breasts, before deliberately moving back down her body. The undeniable sensation gripped her that he was laying claim to every part of her that he touched.

“You’re special,” he whispered as he continued to caress her. “So very special to me, unlike any other woman I’ve ever known.”

His soft words cascaded over her, spinning her in a whirlwind of emotion until she felt as if she were soaring, as if the only thing keeping her from flying away to heaven were Ross’s arms around her.

“I’m going to make love to you again,” he murmured against her lips.

Make love. He’d never used those words before, and something low in her belly told her that it wasn’t because he wanted to avoid being coarse. She’d never met a man so careful with his choice of words, one who meant exactly what he said.

Despite the sudden knot of nervousness in her belly, she breathed out…Yes.