Secrets of a Summer Night (Wallflowers #1)(74)

“I’m not annoyed.” Simon’s gaze traveled over her pensively. “I’m just wondering what the hell to do with you now.”

“The same thing you were going to do before I told you?” she asked hopefully.

Simon stood and pulled her to her feet and embraced her rather gingerly, as if he feared she might shatter with too much pressure. He pressed his face into the shining fall of her hair and breathed deeply. “Believe me, I’ll get around to it,” he said, sounding bemused. “But first it seems there are a few things I need to ask you.”

Annabelle pushed her arms inside the front of his coat and slid them around his hard, sleek torso. The heat of his body had permeated the thin fabric of his shirt, and she shivered pleasantly as she delved into the male-scented warmth of his embrace. “Yes?” she prompted.

Until that moment she had never witnessed Simon being less than fully articulate…but he spoke with exceptional hesitancy, as if this was a kind of discussion he’d never been obliged to have before. “Do you know what to expect? Do you have all the…er, necessary information?”

“I think so,” Annabelle replied, smiling at the interesting discovery that his heart was beating very fast against her cheek. “My mother and I had a talk just a little while ago—after which I was strongly tempted to ask for an annulment.”

Suddenly, he gave a muffled laugh. “I’d better claim my husbandly rights without delay, then.” Taking her fingers in his hot, light grip, he lifted them to his mouth. The touch of his breath was like steam. “What did she tell you?” he murmured against her fingertips.

“After imparting the basic facts, she said that I should let you do as you wished and try not to complain if I didn’t like something. And she suggested that if it becomes too unpleasant, I should turn my mind to thoughts of that enormous bank account that you opened for me.”

Annabelle regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, expecting that Simon might be offended by such candor. But he had begun to laugh huskily.

“That’s a refreshing change from thinking of England.” He drew his head back to look at her. “Shall I woo you with whispers of balance transfers and rates of interest, then?”

Turning her hand in his, Annabelle let her fingertips graze the surface of his lips, lingering at the velvety edge, then drifting down to the masculine scrape of his chin. “That won’t be necessary. Just say the usual things.”

“No…the usual things won’t do for you.” Simon tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his palm as he leaned forward. His mouth teased hers into yielding openness, while his hands found the outline of her body within the ample billows of lace. With no corset to constrict her ribs, she could feel his touch through the thin veil of her gown. The stroke of his hands along her unbound sides caused her to quiver, the tips of her br**sts turning exquisitely sensitive. His palm traveled slowly over her front, finding the pliant weight of one breast, and he made a gentle cup of his fingers, lifting the vulnerable flesh. Her breath halted momentarily as his thumb nudged her nipple into delicately aching distension.

“It’s usually painful for a woman, the first time,” he murmured.

“Yes, I know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

The admission touched and surprised her. “My mother says it doesn’t last for long,” she said.

“The pain?”

“No, the rest of it,” she said, and for some reason that made him laugh again.

“Annabelle…” His mouth drifted along her throat. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you standing outside that panorama, digging for coins in your purse. I couldn’t take my eyes from you. I could hardly believe you were real.”

“You stared at me for the entire show,” she said, gasping a little as he nibbled at the silken lobe of her ear. “I doubt you learned a single thing about the fall of the Roman Empire.”

“I learned that you have the softest lips I’ve ever kissed.”

“You have a novel way of introducing yourself.”

“I couldn’t help it.” His hand skimmed gently up and down her side. “Standing next to you in the darkness was the most unholy temptation I’d ever experienced. All I could think about was how adorable you were and how much I wanted you. When the lights went out completely, I couldn’t stand it any longer.” A note of masculine smugness entered his voice as he added, “And you didn’t push me away.”

“I was too surprised!”

“That was the reason you didn’t object?”

“No,” Annabelle admitted, tilting her face so that her cheek brushed against his. “I liked your kiss. You know that I did.”

He smiled at that. “I had hoped it wasn’t all one-sided.” He looked into her eyes, their faces so close that their noses were nearly touching. “Come to bed with me,” he whispered, a nearly imperceptible question in his voice.

She nodded with a shaky sigh and let him lead her to the large four-poster bed, covered with a counterpane made of heavy quilted burgundy silk. Drawing back the covers, Simon lifted Annabelle onto the slick-pressed linens, and she slid over to make room for him. He stood by the bed, watching her face as he removed the rest of his formal clothes. The contrast between the neatly tailored garments, so eminently civilized, and the raw masculine power of the body beneath, was disconcerting. As Annabelle had expected, he possessed an unusually muscular torso, his back and shoulders rippling, his stomach tightly corrugated. His swarthy skin was tinted amber-gold in the lamplight, the surface of his shoulders gleaming as rich and taut as freshly cast metal. Even the dark fleece that covered his chest could not soften the powerful vaulting of flesh and bone. Annabelle doubted that a healthier, more vigorous-looking man could be found anywhere. Perhaps he didn’t match the fashionable ideal of a pale, slender-framed aristocrat…but Annabelle thought he was altogether splendid.