Page 69 of Notorious

“But I am going to disrobe and am not wearing a nightshirt. Do you wish to see me?”

Oh, she did, she did. Her memory of that brief glance all those years ago was like a favorite blanket, worn and handled again and again until it was frayed around the edges from overuse.

“Yes.”

He led her to the bed and lifted the bedding. Drusilla crawled beneath, grateful beyond words to be covered.

“Have you seen a man before?”

“I saw you,” she blurted.

His hands froze on the sash of his robe and he frowned. Drusilla realized he’d forgotten the incident—an incident that had been so very life changing to her had meant nothing to him. But then he’d been seen by women dozens if not hundreds of times, hadn’t he?

She swallowed the thought, as unpleasant as one of the draughts her old nurse used to mix up at the sign of the first sniffle.

He laughed and nodded, his grin releasing a mad fluttering in her chest. “Ah yes, the time Eva stole our clothing.” His eyes narrowed but his smile did not dim. “You recall that, do you, my peeping wife?” His hand moved low over his abdomen, to where the silk bulged, and his palm rubbed over the hard ridge.

Drusilla’s body clenched in response.

“I don’t believe I was displaying at my finest that day.” His fingers wrapped around the ridged silk, his hand stroking absently as he gazed at his memory.

She had no idea what he meant and didn’t care. She couldn’t take her eyes from the sight of his hand, the veins prominent and the muscles of his wrists and forearms defined, clutching something that looked monstrously big.

“Look at me, Drusilla.” Whatever he saw on her face made him chuckle again and take a step closer to the bed. “Give me your hand . . . please.”

She extended the hand that was not holding her propped up.

His fingers were long, nimble, and dark against the pale skin of her wrist. He was openly amused, but when he placed her hand over the silk-covered ridge, his smile dropped away and he hissed.

Drusilla’s fingers tightened, and he shuddered. She pushed herself up, not caring when the blankets slipped away. She dragged her fingers lightly up his length, transfixed when he shivered.

His chin tilted down, and it was Drusilla’s turn to suck in a noisy breath; the expression on his face was one of fierce hunger. She closed her shaking fingers around his girth, and his eyelids fluttered but did not close.

“God, yes . . . just like that.”

Drusilla looked at her hand and blinked: yes, he really was as big as he felt.

His hand covered hers and tightened. “Like so.” He squeezed far harder than she would have believed comfortable, and stroked, from root to tip. He groaned, repeating the motion several times before removing both their hands.

Drusilla frowned. Why had he taken her hand away? She’d just begun to—

“Will you remove my robe?”

She looked from the intriguing bulge to his taut, expectant face and swallowed yet again as she reached for the sash with fingers that trembled with anticipation, rather than fear. A quick tug and the fine fabric slid open. Skin like silk stretched over muscles that were impossibly sculpted and defined. Auburn hair lighter than that on his head dusted his chest, with darker curls at the base of his . . .

“Oh.”

He made a sound of amusement. “Oh, indeed.” His fingers threaded into her hair, and he tilted her face upward. His lips had thinned and were curved in a tight smile, his green eyes black. “Do you like what you see?” His gaze dropped to her throat as she swallowed. And then swallowed again.

“Yes.” The word was a dried husk and his pupils flared.

“Let me in beside you.”

She scooted away from the edge of the bed, and the mattress moved as he lowered himself.

“Ahhh, that feels so good,” he said, stretching out on his side, facing her. Lines of strain radiated from the corners of his brilliant eyes, and the grooves that ran from the side of his nose to his mouth seemed to be deeper. She recalled he’d not slept for at least a full day, and an unexpected wave of tenderness washed over her.

She pulled the covers up over them both, and he smiled. “Thank you for protecting my modesty.”