“Now that, my darling, is a matter for debate.” She stood, allowing her heavy cotton gown to ripple down to her toes. “Do you recall our dilemma last night?”
The other brow shot up. “Dilemma?”
“If we are to convince the staff of our ruse, shouldn’t a new bride appear freshly…shall we say…ravished first thing in the morning?”
That muscle in his jaw clenched. Raking a hand through his hair, he met her eyes. “Grace, what are you up to?”
She padded to the bed. If his brows went any higher, they’d have touched his hairline.
“The maid will be in shortly, and I can only imagine the gossip.” She knelt lightly on the mattress, barely rustling the covers.
He’d set his jaw, showing little reaction. But the wicked gleam in his eyes betrayed he was far from immune to her nearness. “I’ll ask you again… What in blazes are you up to?”
She could not hold back her smile. There was something about him…something about the way he tried to pretend he was a stoic, straitlaced gentleman, that appealed to her. Oh, she knew better.
And she’d remind him of that very fact.
“Just remember…this is for the sake of our mission.”
A sudden wave of shyness rushed over her. Swallowing hard, she met his gaze.
Anticipation gleamed in their mossy-green depths.
And something more—something she couldn’t define and wasn’t sure she even wanted to.
She leaned closer and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was gentle. A mere brush of her lips against his. Not quite chaste.
With a strangled sound low in his throat, he drew her closer. His arms curved around her, caging her gently against him. The heat of his hands permeated the fabric covering her body, and she relaxed, luxuriating in his embrace.
Her fingers swept over the bare skin of his back, drinking in the warmth and texture of his skin, the feel of powerful muscles beneath her touch. The hunger she’d been able to control escaped its reins, and she heard herself moan against his mouth.
Goodness, I’ve gone and done it now.
He deepened the kiss, intensified the contact. His tongue darted between her parted lips, stirring her desire.
Another low sound, almost a little growl, escaped him. His breath brushed her lips as he eased away.
His expression was gentle as he regarded her for the span of several heartbeats. She swallowed hard, struggling to express the jumble of thoughts converging in her mind.
She reached out to him, cupping his cheek against her hand. The rough stubble of new beard grazed her palm. Her heart tripped. Had it actually skipped a beat?
“One must make sacrifices…for the sake of duty.” She’d meant the words to sound light, perhaps even flippant. But somehow, they carried the weight of truth.
“Indeed.” His thumb traced over her lower lip. “You’re a lady, Grace. Don’t think I will forget that.”
A lady.The words echoed in her thoughts. How very perplexing. She’d never used her body to pry anything out of a man—not money, not information. Not even affection. She’d been a virgin when she and Harrison had shared that one delicious night—and since that time, she’d only touched a man in the most proper of ways on the dance floor of a fancy ballroom or perhaps, to lift a few bob out of his pocket.
But she’d never thought of herself as a lady. After all, a lady didn’t steal. Or connive her way into some trusting dupe’s graces. No matter her reasons, a true lady wouldn’t stoop so low.
In spite of this—in spite of knowing full well what she’d done to support herself—Harrison did think her a lady.
She didn’t quite know what to make of it.
My, the man is confounding.
So she looked at him and voiced what was in her heart. “Thank you.” Leaning closer, she held his gaze as she moistened her slightly swollen lips with the tip of her tongue. “I suppose I look convincing enough now.”
