Chapter 23

What did she want? He was afraid he gaped at her, although he did manage to keep his mouth from hanging open. “What?”

Sin sighed. “You truly are not good with following directions. However did the duke put up with you?”

“I can assure you that he never asked me to strip.”

She smiled slightly. “But I imagine you would have jumped to obey him if he did.”

That was probably true. He’d learned early to obey his father in all things or the switch came out. “He was not prone to nonsensical orders.”

This time she laughed. She actually laughed. “I would never say that Scarlett was nonsensical, but sometimes I do believe that he gives orders just to prove that all will obey. I am not quite sure it was necessary that all the footmen be exactly the same height or that you and Langdon always stand while learning your lessons or that lemons never be allowed in the house or that—”

“I will concede the point. My father can be a man of singular opinions.”

“It is the advantage of being a duke.”

“One that I will never have.”

She looked at him strangely and he waited for the “you never know.” Why did people always think that he would wish for anything that would require his father and brother’s deaths?

Instead she crinkled her nose. “Would you want to? I’ve never thought that being a duke—or truly, holding any title—seemed like much fun. It always seemed far better to be a wealthy second son, so much more freedom and choice.”

It was his turn to smile. She was a constant surprise. “Yes, you do like your freedom and choice. I cannot, however, say that you are wrong—although it does leave one wishing for something of one’s own.” He was joking, but his mind wandered to their discussion back in the cabin. Since he’d become reacquainted with Sin, his longings had faded. He felt more like his own man. “And you are right, being wealthy is key. I’ve had friends who did not have such a benefit and it does leave them rather desperate for wealthy wives and large dowries.”

“Perhaps I should wish that you were one of them. If you were after my dowry I might believe that you would at some point do what I say and take off your clothes.”

She was serious.

“Is this a test?”

Was Sin actually rolling her eyes at him? She was. With a lift of one brow, she said, “Of course it’s a test. I thought that was quite obvious. Prove to me that you will let me make even small decisions and decide what you want.”

He could do that. It would not be difficult. He might have a strong preference for being in control in the bedroom, but he could let Sin have a little fun and then show her just how he…

“You’re planning a coup,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“I would never—”

“You certainly would. You always have a secret plan. Now take off your clothing or I am leaving.”

Was that her best threat? He was tempted to call her on it, but it occurred to him that she really might leave. He yanked at his cravat and then tossed it onto the pillows. His jacket followed. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt.

“I do wish there was a proper chair,” Sin said. “I would rather like to relax as I watch you, but once I sink into those pillows I may never arise.”

He didn’t think that would be a problem. He’d be quite happy with her spread across the pile of pillows. Her white dress would make quite the picture against the brightly colored silks, the ripped bodice giving him the perfect hint of what was to come. Yes, it would be quite the image.

“You’re thinking about what you want again. You must remember that I will determine what you want.” She turned and gazed about the room. “I almost wish we were in the room with all the whips. I’d quite like a crop to tap against my thigh as I talk.” She looked down at herself. “It is quite difficult to keep the proper air of authority when one’s bosom is falling out. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you stare at it as often as you look at my face.”

“I admit I am weak.”

“Now hurry with those buttons. I’ve been missing your chest. If you get to stare at mine, it’s only fair that I get to stare at yours.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” The shirt joined his jacket on the pile of pillows.

For a moment she kept her word and simply stared. Her eyes moving over his shoulders and the flat muscled planes of his chest. Her breasts began to rise and fall more rapidly. It was powerful to see the effect he had on her.

Her eyes dropped lower. She gave a jerking nod.

His hands moved to the flap of his breeches. It would be good to be free. But…“I should remove my boots first.”

For a moment he thought she would say no. She wanted this all her way. But then, with a smile, she nodded again.

Glancing about, he sat on the edge of the low table. “I may need help. I don’t have a bootjack and normally my valet pulls this pair off. They are quite tight on the shins.”

“Tell me what to do,” she said. “No, don’t. You’re not to tell me what to do until I release you. I will figure it out all on my own.”

“Fine.” He stayed seated, not moving.

Perhaps she had spoken too quickly. James sat still, feet flat on the floor. How did you take off a man’s boots? She’d seen him remove them at the cabin. He’d simply yanked them off, one at a time, when seated. But those had been rougher, larger boots. These did not seem so simple.

She was not, however, about to be defeated by the task.

It was amazing the things she was not truly familiar with. Were men and women really kept that separate? How could she not know how to remove a simple pair of boots?

Well, in truth she did know if she thought about it. It could not be that different than her own shoes.

She walked over and stood in front of him. “Give me your foot.”

He raised a brow—but also his leg, holding the boot out to her. She grabbed hold. His leg was much heavier than she would have expected. Placing a hand under the heel, she yanked. And yanked. And yanked. It shifted some, but not much.

There must be a better way, better leverage.

Ah.

Slinging one leg over his, she turned, angling her behind in his direction. Let him look. He’d already indicated that he found it attractive. She wiggled her hips a little as she began to pull. Some movement, but not enough.

She needed more strength or…“Place your other foot on my behind, give me a little help.”

“You want me to plant my boot on your ass.”

He would say it that way. “Yes.”

“Happy to oblige.” He gave her a good shove, almost causing her to lose her footing—but the boot came free from his heel and then pulled off easily. She resisted the urge to smile. Quickly, she removed his stocking.

Then it was time for the second boot. Only, now it was his bare foot that landed on her behind. His toes began to wiggle against her in a most distracting fashion before he added a push.

She yanked hard, more than ready to pull off a bit of skin along with the boot. He grunted, and then gave her the awaited push; the boot came free.

“I think I’d enjoy that more if you were naked, in case you were wondering.”

She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t and it is you who should be naked.”

“Never let it be said I did not indulge a lady.” He stood and his hands again dropped to his flap.

It was impossible not to focus as he unfastened one button and then another. He let the top of the waist drop, revealing the slender trail of dark hair that led down from his navel, trailing across the ridged muscles of his abdomen. Then the indents that marked each hip appeared. “What do you call those?” she asked.

“Call what?”

“Those muscles.”

“I think you’ll need to show me which ones.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

Now, that was a task she could definitely manage. Walking closer, she placed a finger on his waist then slowly ran it down, watching his skin shiver at her touch. She reached the indent and let her finger follow it down until she reached the fabric of his breeches where he held them up. Keeping her eyes focused on her hand, on the tantalizing sprinkling of dark hair, she said, “This muscle.”

His abdomen expanded as he spoke. “I think I’ve heard it called Apollo’s Girdle. I have to admit I’ve never really thought about it. It is simply a part of me.”

“Do all men have them?” She ran her finger up and then down again, this time letting her finger slip a little lower. His cock jerked beneath his breeches. She swallowed, hard.

“I don’t know. Well, I am sure some don’t. But I can’t say I’ve ever looked.”

“Why have you stopped?” she asked, her eyes still focused downward.

Without comment, he let the breeches fall to the floor.

Had it always been that big? It must have, but still it was hard to imagine…“Stand,” she said.

“As you wish.”

James stood, towering over her. She should have backed away first. Often she liked the feeling of vulnerability that she developed near him, but right now she wanted to be strong. Starting to force her eyes upward, she paused at his tight brown nipples and the tanned skin of his chest. “How do you stay so brown? I can’t imagine you are out much this time of year.”

He raised a hand and touched his chest. “Not usually, certainly. I think the color just stays at this point in my life. It used to fade quickly, but now it lingers for a month. Perhaps I can blame that Italian princess in the long gallery. I think I did take a late swim in October when it was so warm. The water was frigid, but it was good to lie out in the sun. Too good. I was actually quite red when I got home, but the color has stayed ever since.”

“Interesting.” She ran a finger across one nipple. He shuddered.

She continued, “I noticed at the cottage that even your feet were brown. I suppose you swim in only your skin?”

“Who would swim any other way?”

She thought about swimming in her chemise and stockings. It would be much better to be free. “Perhaps when we are wed, you will take me for a paddle.”

He hesitated, clearly not quite comfortable with the idea. “I suppose if I say no, you will lecture me again, so I will skip ahead and say perhaps. We would have to find someplace private.”

“And it is not private when you swim?” She flicked a nail across his hard nipple.

His breath caught—and then released. “I am not always alone when I swim.”

That made her stare up at him. “Truly?”

He chuckled. “Now you are making me think that perhaps I do need to bring you along—although not with my friends, my male friends. There’s a spot at the end of Lord Colton’s estate with a cool, deep pond shaded by trees. We sometimes would race there as fast as we could and then cool off in the water.”

“Race? Running or horses?”

“Or hopping or crawling or in carts or on donkeys. We’ve been known to race just about any way you can imagine.”

She flicked her nail again. “With a suitable wager, of course.”

“Of course.”

She ran her nail lower, halfway to his navel, and began to trace little patterns. “Would you let me gamble?”

“I don’t see why not, unless you’re planning to wager the estate.”

“No, I’ve never had any like for large bets. It is winning that matters, not what I win.”

“A woman after my own heart, but I’ve already admitted to that.”

Truly? She drew a circle and then another, wet her finger with her tongue and drew a little heart. She could see his slight quiver at the cool dampness. She leaned slightly and blew. “Should we make our own wager, then?”

“And what are you thinking of wagering on?” His voice was quite hoarse.

“Hmm, something immediate. I hate waiting to know if I’ve won.”

“That makes sense.” He choked his words a little as her finger roamed lower.

“What about a wager on who can bring the other one to orgasm first, or perhaps I mean in the least amount of time. Do you have a watch?”

His eyes narrowed at her words. He would never learn not to underestimate her.

“I do,” he answered.

“Perhaps I deserve a handicap? I’ve never tried this before.” Her finger swept lower, circling his navel three times before coming to rest flat on his lower belly, just above the tip of his cock. If her hand had been any larger they would have touched. His whole body grew tense and strained. “No, I do think I’ll be a fast learner. Perhaps I should offer you the handicap.”

She glanced up. His gaze was locked upon her hand. His skin was a little paler there and the contrast between him and her was not as great. And then she looked lower. Now, that was certainly a different color. Almost purple. A single drop of liquid already clung at the end.

Curious, she reached out and touched it—barely, just the briefest sweep of finger across the opening.

He inhaled sharply.

She brought it to her lips. This she knew she enjoyed, craved. Earthy with a touch of salt. She licked again, rubbing her finger across her lips.

She glanced back at James and froze. He looked like he was ready to devour her, his eyes huge and dark, his focus on her finger and how her lips moved around it.

Still watching him, she let the finger sink between her lips, savoring with obvious pleasure.

“Fuck,” he growled, truly the sound of an animal.

Perhaps she should have felt fear, but the ache that curled in her belly was definitely that of excitement. She was doing that to him, making him so wild. It made her want to join him, to meet him in some wild, savage mating.

She sucked her finger hard.

The muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed, ready to spring.

Another moment and he would be on her, dragging her down to the pillows, ripping her dress further, baring her to his desire, pressing her…

No.

This was her game. This was her turn. If she did not take control now, she would lose, and more than their silly wager.

Her hand fell to her side. She stepped back, stared at his face until his eyes met hers and held. “Go stand between the columns,” she ordered.