Suddenly, he pulled away, and Willow found herself stunned and bereft. Her eyes opened to find him shrugging off his robe in one smooth motion, allowing it to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap.
Willow nearly choked on air.
“You’re . . . you’re . . .”
He was completely, splendidly and breathtakingly naked.
Willow backed away from him, her lips parting as her gaze wandered over every sinew that rippled across his torso. His thick muscles thrummed with strength.
He stalked her with a slow gait, the motion drawing her gaze lower.
Her eyes snapped back up again. “You cannot possibly waltz into my bedchamber naked and all . . . all . . . . naked!”
But he could.
And he did.
He arched a bemused brow. “No?”
“You cannot possibly mean to . . .” her words tapered off on a breathless note.
But he could.
And he meant to.
She saw it in the gleam of his eyes and realized she wanted to do . . . whatever he wanted.
“A good wife would have been naked by now, not arguing with me about breakfast.”
Willow flushed scarlet. She wouldn’t admit that breakfast was presently the furthest thing from her mind. She could easily win that argument in the morning. There were more pressing matters at the moment, matters she was rather entranced by. Naked matters. Husband matters.Consummationmatters.
“Are you under the impression that wives lounged nude in wait for their husbands all day?” She sniffed in mock disdain. “They do not.”
His lips pulled back in a smile. “If they did, no man would ever leave their bed.”
“Men tire easily enough.”
“Not all men.”
The words, the rough baritone of his voice, brought a shiver to her spine.
Did he mean himself? That the thought thrilled her made it clear: her sanity was, indeed, lost. Because the thought of lounging around naked waiting on the duke sounded ridiculously delightful.
“So what is it to be, wife?”
“I beg your pardon?” Her eyes, which were busy examining his torso, jerked up to his face.
“I’m all for hiking your skirts up and consummating this marriage without delay, though I’d rather it be your choice.” His eyes raked her up and down, gaze blazing. “And I’d rather you be naked.”
“You are allowing me the chance to decline?”
He shrugged. “But be warned, little wife, this marriage will not be annulled. I will have your word.”
Dear lord, he was giving her a way out of their wedding night. And he truly thought she would seize the chance. Willow glimpsed it there, in the amusement of his features, his flashing eyes.
“So?” he pressed.
Wicked scoundrel! Challenge wove through the threads of his words. He must want this marriage badly. She made a mental note to demand answers later.
