Page 67 of Notorious

This close to him, Drusilla could see the red-gold hairs that broke through the skin.

His eyebrows jumped up, and his teeth flashed. “What is it, my wife?”

She gaped as if only now realizing what the brief blur of a ceremony had meant: He was her husband. He was hers. A shock went through her body at the wonderful, frightening, amazing thought.

His lips, full and shapely, curved into an oddly gentle smile. “I want you, Drusilla—I want to bed you.”

She knew she should say something—anything—but she was empty of words and thoughts. Besides, her throat had constricted. It was a miracle any air was getting through; words would not have a chance.

She nodded jerkily, and he kissed her again.

“If I do anything you do not like, you have only to ask me to stop. Is that understood?”

Again she nodded.

He laughed softly into her hair. “Where is Miss Clare—what have you done with her? Why isn’t she here to scold me—to hector me?”

“I—I don’t know,” she answered foolishly, staring at his feet.

“Look at me, Drusilla.”

She realized, as the seconds ticked past, that he was not going to speak or move until she obeyed.

“That’s better.” He slid his hands around her throat, his thumbs resting on her jaws while his fingers massaged the taut cords of her neck.

“I’m going to remove your gown. I want to look at you—at all of you.”

“But—”

His fingers paused at the fastenings that ran from her neck to her waist. “Yes? Remember, you may ask questions or tell me to stop at any time.”

“Is that, er, well, necessary? My aunt said—”

“I can guess what your aunt said. No, nudity is not necessary, but I would like to see your body.”

Drusilla felt positively woozy and closed her eyes. “Oh.” She gulped. “Why?”

“Because it would give me pleasure to look at you—to touch your skin, all of it.”

“Uh.”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded.

His fingers resumed their journey, his featherlight touch almost imperceptible on first her dressing gown and then her nightgown.

“Do you want a child, Drusilla?”

Her eyes snapped open.

He was smiling, and his gaze flickered from her eyes to her chest.When she looked down, she saw the soft fabric was gaping open. Her breasts were still concealed, but she saw, with horror, that her nipples had hardened, as if she were cold. But she wasn’t cold . . .

“Drusilla?”

Oh, yes. He’d asked her a question. “Wh-why do you ask if I want a child?”

“Because I know you did not wish to marry. I’m in no need of an heir and there are ways to lower the likelihood of conception.”