With an effort she dragged her gaze away and looked at him, wanting to beg for something… anything… she didn’t know what.
And was riveted by the expression in his eyes.
She wasn’t the only one mesmerized… burning.
He was wholly unaware of her regard; his attention was entirely on her body. His eyes devoured her even as his hands roamed over her, unraveling her…
Unraveling him…
And then his hands stilled, and his gaze snapped up, meeting hers. There was a brief, frozen pause, then a shutter of smoked glass crashed down behind his eyes and he was suddenly hard and distant and… cool.
He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little push away. “And that—” His voice grated harshly, and he stepped back and cleared his throat. “Let that be a lesson. Breeches or not, you look nothing like a boy.”
She blinked at his sudden coldness. Her eyes dropped to his breeches, to the hard, masculine bulge.
He saw her looking. He clenched his jaw and turned sharply away from her. “Get changed for bed,” he said as he headed for the door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” After he’d left she heard the key turn in the lock.
No escape possible.
She gave a halfhearted, shaky laugh. Escape was the last thing on her mind.
Bella wasn’t sure how long had passed when she suddenly realized she was still standing in front of the mirror, gazing into it with her arms wrapped around herself and a foolish smile on her face.
He’d said he’d be back in ten minutes.
She flew into action, ripping off her boots, stockings, and breeches. She opened her bag and pulled out her nightdress. The polished wooden floor was freezing and chilled her bare toes, so she undressed standing on the small rug in front of the stove. In seconds she’d stripped off the rest of her clothes and pulled the nightdress over her head.
For the first time in her life, she wished she’d been good at embroidery. All the other girls had made beautifully embroidered nightclothes. Hers was plain cotton.
Still, if he’d desired her in breeches and a leather jerkin, he might not care about a plain cotton nightdress. She felt suddenly cold and wanted to dive into the bed, but she couldn’t resist a quick glance in the looking glass.
Her hair! Swiftly she pulled out the pins that held her braids in place, and unraveled the plaits and finger-combed her hair. She should brush it, but she was sure ten minutes had elapsed, and she didn’t want to be caught unready for him.
Another glance in the looking glass and she wished she hadn’t looked. Before, he’d shown her someone who was mysteriously attractive. Now there was plain old Bella Ripton again, in a white cotton nightie that made her look sallow and swamped any feminine curves she might have had. And her hair was a Medusa of dark snakes instead of a woman’s glory.
“Oh, Mama,” she sighed. “Why couldn’t we have been born pretty?”
Her feet were freezing, so she risked another moment or two on the rug next to the fire. She stood toasting herself, pulling the nightdress up to warm her bare bottom. When she heard footsteps in the corridor outside, she hit the bed in a flying leap.
She dived under the covers and waited.
The footsteps faded away. It wasn’t Luke. But he wouldn’t be long.
Bella lay between the cold sheets, shivering a little and hugging herself to get warm, though the cold was only external. Inside she was still hot and excited and… melty.
For so long, everyone—even her husband—had treated her as a child. Finally she was about to become a woman.
Who knew he could make her feel like that, just by talking… and touching… and looking?
She waited. Her insides were a mass of warm butterflies.
Luke had let himself out of the back door of the inn and gone for a quiet walk to cool down.So much for his intended lesson.
How had it spun so quickly out of control?
When he’d asked the landlord to provide a large mirror, Luke had planned to give his wife a short, brusque lesson; whatever she looked like in the past in those breeches, she did not look like a boy in them any longer. He’d envisaged it taking a moment or two. He would point out the obvious, and she would understand.
But she’d been inclined to argue the point, and Luke felt compelled to show her how false her assumption was.
