Page 36

She set her reticule upon the dressing table and drew out the ribbon. The black silk lay across her fingers, cool and supple, familiar now from the many times she had handled it while reading his letters. She twisted it absently between her fingers while she composed her replies. It seemed to hold a small, secret weight.

Dominic’s gaze followed it, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed.

“Take off your clothes,” she ordered. “Then lie on the bed.”

He arched a brow. “Are you going to remove your gown?”

She grinned. “You need not worry about that. This gown is easily removed without assistance.” She didn't want anything to deter her plans.

He did not speak again. Slowly he untied his cravat and handed it to her. He was good to remember she wanted it. She would. Need it for what she had in mind. Once he was undressed, he crawled onto the bed. “What next, love?” he asked.

“Will you allow me to place this over your eyes?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

He looked from the ribbon to her face. “Yes.”

The answer steadied her. She had imagined herself entirely confident by this point, but asking without the excuse of a game felt more intimate. No wager required his agreement. No forfeit compelled him. He was choosing to trust her, and the realization made her chest ache with a tender, fragile gladness. She slid the ribbon over his eyes and secured it.

“I should prefer a kiss,” he said, with a hopeful, crooked smile.

She gave him one, brief enough to make him follow when she drew away, his lips chasing hers for a heartbeat. His hands settled upon her waist, warm through the silk, and she felt his smile against her mouth before she stepped back, laughing breathlessly.

“You are distracting me,” she chastised him.

“I had understood distraction to be permitted.”

“Only when I am responsible for it.” She smiled, but knew he could not see it. She needed him to play along. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said confidently. “Whatever you want to do, I want it too.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She had not known how much that would mean to her. “You welcome my wicked ideas.”

“I believed you had exhausted your need for good behavior,” he said.

“That was before I discovered how much you have to say.”

He quieted at once, though his expression remained warm. She touched his cheek, brushing her thumb along his jaw, and felt the faint roughness of evening stubble. The tenderness beneath their teasing. His eyes closed briefly at her touch, and something in her heart turned over. She had not expected that part.

She had imagined pleasure, laughter, and an agreeable adventure she could keep to herself afterward. Amelia kissed him before she could fear what she had admitted. This kiss was slower. She rested her hand at his nape, letting herself enjoy his warmth and the way his arm came around her. He drew her close against his chest. His heart beat beneath her palm, fast and strong, and its steady rhythm calmed her. When they parted, she stayed close enough for her forehead to brush his, their breath mingling in the hush of the room. The ribbon blinding him remained in place.

She held the cravats in her hand. “I wish to secure your arms to the headboard.” She touched his shoulder, feeling the warm, solid muscle beneath the linen. “And you will tell me if you wish me to stop.”

“Amelia.” His voice was quiet and certain, and he turned toward the sound of her voice. “I want you this. If I need you to stop. I will let you know, but you should know that is unlikely.”

She believed him. That made it easier to trust her own wishes, and she let out a slow breath, feeling her nerves ease. For a moment, she simply looked at him. Without his gaze upon her, she could study the familiar curve of his mouth. The dark hair she had already disturbed, and the line of his throat above the open collar. The slight smile that appeared when her fingers touched his cheek. He looked younger like this, and more vulnerable, and the sight filled her with a fierce, protective tenderness. She worked quickly, using his cravats to tie his arms to the bed.

“You are very quiet,” he said.

“I am considering what I would like to do first,” she said.

“You have several options.” His breathing was ragged. “Choose before I go mad.”

“And you have no intention of resisting them?”

“None whatever,” he said, and the warmth in his voice made her heart skip.

Amelia bent and kissed him. He answered readily, but she set the pace, drawing back when she wished and returning when she could, savoring the freedom. His laughter was soft when she brushed his hair from his brow, a low, contented sound. She found herself smiling too, her whole body warm and loose with happiness.

She pulled back and slid off the bed, shedding her gown. Once she was completely undressed, she joined him on the bed again. “Where to start…”