He nodded. “Very well. No concessions for the weaker opponent.”
She made a dismissive sound. “I’m not your inferior.”
“You most certainly are not.” With sudden urgency, he wrenched his shirt over his head and flung it into the corner. “But remember when you’re hot and panting and begging for mercy, that you asked for this.”
A brief laugh. “I’d like to see that.”
So, by the devil, would he. His confidence surged when her covetous gaze fastened on his bare chest. She licked her lips again. Satan and all his minions, every time she did that, he nearly lost himself.
He toed off his shoes and reached for his trousers. Predictably her lustful expression made his cock swell. Before he could accept her unspoken invitation, she tugged the skirts of her blue gown. The sibilant whisper when it crumpled to the ground was one of the most evocative sounds he’d ever heard.
“There’s a heaven, and I’m in it,” he murmured. It was his turn to devour her with his eyes. “You still hold a lot of surprises, Helena.”
Her bold front was touchingly unconvincing. “I like wearing pretty things.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” He stepped back to take in Helena’s undergarments. Red rosebuds trailed with seeming artlessness across filmy lawn.
With a very un-Helena-like fumble, she untied her petticoat. It slithered down with more of that damned rustling. Her shift offered ghost glimpses of pearled pink nipples and the dark hair concealing her sex. A satin corset embroidered with more roses slanted across her body where he’d tugged it awry. West’s fingers curled at his sides at the prospect of tracing the twining roses, then discovering her smooth olive skin beneath.
Scarlet garters held up sheer, white stockings, and the ribbons on her satin slippers, blue to match her dress, tied around her neat ankles. In all his days, he’d never seen such a pretty picture.
“You naughty girl.” His gaze sharpened as heat speared him. “You’re not wearing drawers.”
“Sometimes, I…I don’t.” The stammer wasn’t like her either. “I take it you approve.”
“I’m out of my bloody min
d with approval. It’s a good thing I never knew what was under those dauntingly stylish gowns, or you’d have found yourself compromised well before this. It was hard enough keeping my hands off you anyway.”
She looked gratifyingly intrigued. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he said, as though he swore his life away. He drew a hairpin from the mass of black hair coiled at her nape. “With your hair like this, you remind me of a renaissance princess.”
Her mouth, red with kisses, quirked with familiar, endearing humor. “Lucretia Borgia?”
“Someone a little less murderous.” He removed two more pins. A silky skein of black snaked down across her shoulder. Delicately he lifted it and brought it to his lips, breathing deep. Her rich scent flooded his senses. Smoky. Female. Unforgettable. So true to the woman she was.
Wonderingly she studied him. “You’re not—”
He smoothed the lock back, admiring its dense blackness against her skin. “I’m not what?”
“You’re not in a hurry.”
How criminally careless Crewe had been with her. “It doesn’t signal lack of appetite.”
Her gaze lowered to the bulge in his trousers. “It’s…nice. As though you’re taking time to enjoy each flavor, not just bolting the meal down.”
West laughed and kissed her. Through the busy years, and lovers who had meant far too little, as he now recognized with regret, he’d never forgotten Helena. She was endlessly fascinating, extraordinary. Salty and satisfying, where sugar palled.
She responded with pleasing swiftness, and his brief kiss turned into something long and profound. He buried his hands in her hair. When he drew away, it tumbled loose around her slender shoulders.
He nibbled a path down her neck, feeling her shiver, as he disposed of corset and shift. At last he set his hands on her naked body. “You’re beautiful.”
She raised her chin and faced him proudly. Tall. Slender. Long-legged. Graceful as a young goddess. “I’m glad you like me.”
“I’ve always liked you.” His smile was wry. “Haven’t you worked that out yet?”
She didn’t answer. That was all right. Soon she’d admit her fondness for him.