“Oh.” She felt a little foolish. “Yes, Ramón has got a temper.” She drew the curtains to dim the room. “He really could have killed you, you know.”
“No, he couldn’t.” He sounded almost amused. Men were strange. “Though he’s probably ruthless enough to try. He’s desperate.”
“Desperate?” She took off her slippers.
“For money.”
“Do you think we’re in any danger now?” She had a sudden vision of Ramón coming in and murdering them in their sleep. She hurried across and locked the door.
“From Ramón? No, I doubt he’d worry about revenge.” Luke turned back the bedclothes. “He seems to be an eminently practical fellow. Now he knows my death would not benefit him in the least, we’re safe enough.”
“That reminds me—”
He unbuttoned his breeches. She blinked and turned away, fighting a blush. The question of his will was forgotten.
He padded around the bed in his drawers and an undershirt. “Do you need help with your dress?”
“No, er—”
“You wouldn’t want it to crush, would you? It would be a mass of wrinkles if you napped in it. Not setting a good example for your little sister at all. Let me get those laces.” He turned her around and unlaced her dress at the back. She could quite easily have undone it herself, Bella thought. She’d done it up this morning with no trouble. She shivered as his fingers brushed her bare skin.
He bent and kissed the nape of her neck.
“Cold?” he asked, but there was another, silent, question in the deepness of his voice.
This was the moment. If she said yes, he would leave it at that, she knew. They would climb into bed and lie there side by side, not touching until the siesta was over. Or she could say no. Meaning yes.
So much for waiting. She was as powerless to resist him as the tides were able to resist the pull of the moon.
“No,” she said. Meaning yes.
Fourteen
Before she knew it he’d lifted the dress over her head and removed it entirely. He draped it carefully over a chair and then turned her around to face him.
He looked at her and his eyes darkened. There was no trace of the lightness she’d glimpsed in him earlier. It was all focused, burning intensity.
She was perfectly decently clothed in her chemise and the corset, but somehow, Bella felt… exposed. His gaze dropped to her chest. She glanced down. Her breasts looked almost naked, pushed up as they were by her corset. From this angle she could almost see her nipples. Could he?
Leaning against the edge of the high bed, he slowly pulled her between his thighs. “I think we’d better undo that thing,” he murmured. “It looks a bit tight to sleep in.” His voice was quite matter-of-fact, but his eyes… his eyes told a different story.
“Er, no, I’m sure it will be—” she started to mumble, but then his hands were there, reaching for the hooks at the front of her corset. He paused. Bella held her breath.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, and though she knew she was not at all beautiful, in that moment she believed it, believed him. He made her feel beautiful. Very gently, he brushed the back of his fingers across the delicate skin that rose from the constriction of the white linen corset.
She shivered again.
His knuckles slid down, across the linen casing, and she felt her nipples rise, hard and aching to meet them. Back and forth his big knuckles moved, a friction that barely touched her, yet her breasts were on fire.
He bent and kissed the exposed skin and then nibbled his way up her throat to claim her mouth, and as wondrous sensations shimmered through her, she felt suddenly looser, freer.
He’d removed her corset. And then she felt a draft of air against her legs and he pulled back from kissing her a moment and tugged the chemise up… up… and over her head. She folded her arms over her breasts, feeling inadequate, wholly exposed as his dark blue eyes roved hotly over her.
“Don’t be shy; you’re lovely,” he told her, sliding his hands around her waist and drawing her nearer. “Perfect and sweet and lovely.”
A rush of delicious warmth surged through her. She leaned eagerly into him, sliding her hands around his waist, lifting her mouth for his kiss. Blindly, feverishly, she found the hem of his shirt and started to drag it up his body.
“No.” He caught her hands and brought them up to his chest, pressing her palms down flat on the fabric. She felt hard little nubs under her fingers. Male nipples. Remembering the pleasure of his caress through the fabric of her corset, she lightly scraped her nails over the tiny bumps. They hardened and she heard his low growl of pleasure.
