“No. I’ve pretty much given that up around you.”
“Good.” Despite the readiness of her reply, he could see she was nervous. Her eyes were huge in her face, and faint lines of tension shadowed her brow. The little lace ruffle at her throat fluttered with her pulse. He reached up and stilled it with one finger before slipping buttons from their holes. No doubt Elizabeth’s nervousness was going to get worse before it got better. The woman did not understand the meaning of the word relax.
“Come here, wife,” he ordered.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” she whispered, wiggling to a more comfortable position under him.
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“That a problem?” Might as well address these worries as they came, he decided as he admired the play of sunlight and shadow over her upper chest. With the tip of his index finger, he traced the line of her right collarbone as it arced away from the hollow of her throat.
She tipped her head back. Goosebumps sprang up along the path of his finger. “Not if I can call you husband.”
He trailed his finger back along the path just taken. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he pressed. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo beneath his touch. He smiled. “You won’t find any complaint here.”
She said “husband” again. There was a wealth of possession in the tone. He found he liked it. Almost as much as he liked her next words.
“You belong to me.”
“That’s what we promised before God. To cleave unto each other…”
“Forsaking all others,” she completed.
The breeze blew a strand of hair over her chest. It fell forward across her shoulder and caught in the open front of her shirt. He traced its path as it curled down over her breastbone and into the cleavage just visible over the lace edge of her undergarment. “Why am I not surprised you latched onto that part?”
“Wishful thinking?” she offered.
Her breath caught as he pulled her camisole away from her skin and stared at the unfettered fullness of her breasts. He didn’t know whether that catch was from embarrassment or excitement. He didn’t really care. The white curves with their rose colored tips shivered enticingly with her roughened breathing. As he watched, the nipples crinkled and pulled into a slight pout. He wanted to feel them harden against his tongue.
“More than likely,” he agreed. He released the camisole and looked up. “You settled?”
“I believe so.”
“You have any objections if I kiss you?”
“None I can think of.”
None that she was admitting to, he corrected silently as the tension started in her neck and spread down her body. He sighed, knowing there was no cure for her nervousness but experience. He leaned over. Her eyes closed. He touched his lips to hers. Her brow creased.
The lips under his were rigid. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth. She kissed the opposite corner of his. He touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue. Her tongue shot out and tapped the corner of his mouth. He pulled back a breath to get a gander at her expression. The crease between her brows indicated high thinking. He sighed.
“Darlin’?”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
He shook his head. “No need for panic. I just had another question.”
“What?”
He chewed on the best way to address the subject, then decided nothing but the blunt truth was going to get the job done. “You wouldn’t be thinking of memorizing everything I do, would you?”
“Uhm, well, maybe.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” He undid two more buttons on her camisole and spread the material so it was open from chest to waist. “That’d be a great approach if I were teaching you to rope a calf.”
She leapt right into the space left by his delicacy. “That’s exactly how I learned!”
Lord help him, she looked ready to do battle in the middle of his seduction. He worked the little bow free at the waist of her camisole. “And I bet you’re a top-notch roper.”
“Good enough I don’t toss a lariat twice,” she boasted while casting a nervous glance at the amount of skin he was exposing.
He kissed the end of her nose. Mutiny dissolved to indignation. “Stay with me here because this is important.”
From the dead-on way she met his gaze, it was clear he had her attention.
“Romancing a woman, well, that’s a touchy subject for a man.”
“It is?”
He ran his finger down the length of her nose, his heart stumbling over a slight catch when her eyes crossed trying to follow his movement. “Uh-huh.”
He smoothed her right eyebrow and then moved to the left. “A man has a lot on his mind the first time he lays down with a woman.”
“Are you saying you’re feeling apprehensive?”
He could have sighed with relief that she was making it so easy for him. “Sure enough, I’m getting all het up thinking about how you’re studying every move I make.”