Unlacing Lady Thea by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Rhys stood, the blue of his eyes like the flame deep in the heart of a log fire. ‘Tell me.’

‘I would like to go to bed with you. Tonight.’ Thea felt a trifle dizzy. An abyss was opening up beneath her feet and she dare not look down into it. ‘I do not expect anything else, you understand. Not more nights, not to be your lover—your mistress.’

He took the few steps to the door. ‘There is no need to think of tomorrow, just tonight. Let me lock this.’ The snick of the key made her jump, even though she was expecting it. Every nerve ending seemed to be on the surface of her skin, exposed, quivering in the cool draught from the window. Rhys took the tinder box and lit the candles, and the flare of light deepened the evening shadows into mystery.

‘Polly has gone to bed. She was tired and I told her I would not want her until the morning.’

‘You are trembling.’ Rhys’s big hands cupped her shoulders.

‘Just shivering. The evening air...’

‘Then the sooner we are in bed the better.’

He sounds so calm, so in control. But of course, she told herself, Rhys has done this many times. It was not as reassuring as it ought to have been. He has never done it with me before.

His fingers, healed now, had regained their usual dexterity. The fastenings of her gown seemed to melt away. He was always good with knots and fishing lines and... The fabric whispered down and pooled at her feet, and fleeting memories of childhood went with it.

‘Turn around,’ Rhys murmured.

It should have been easier when she could not see him, but his breath raised the hairs on the exposed skin of her nape and she could hear his breathing almost, but not quite, controlled. That slight betraying catch gave her an unexpected feeling of power and the last lingering fear that he was pretending desire in order to save her humiliation fled.

‘Ah.’ The bliss of loosened stay laces, the sense of freedom as her corset joined the gown on the floor. Her petticoat followed it, leaving her in chemise, stockings and a blush. ‘I find I am shy,’ Thea confessed.

‘And I find I am somewhat overdressed,’ Rhys murmured in her ear.

She had though he would kiss her, touch her, but only his breath stroked her skin. Thea turned. ‘Should I undress you?’

‘Don’t you want to?’ There was amusement in his eyes, but not mockery.

‘I told you, I am shy.’ She had never been shy with Rhys before. Once she could tell him anything, make a fool of herself in his company, call for his help when she was stuck in a tree or shriek with horror when they had been paddling in the lake and leeches had attached themselves to her legs. And Rhys always kept her confidences, never laughed at her. He would rescue her from trees and remove the leeches. Now she felt as though she had never known him at all.

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