Stranger in My Arms(48)

He was the husband Lara had once wished him to be: responsible, courteous, kind… friendly. it was this last that caused her such unexpected annoyance.

In a perplexing change of tactics, Hunter appeared to seek her friendship and little else. He barely seemed to notice her as a woman.

There had been a time when Lara would have been thrilled by this situation. She had all the benefits of a husband-security, comfort, companionship-without the physical demands she had disliked so much.

Why, then, was she constantly on edge? Why did she wake in the middle of the night, empty, agitated, burning for a nameless something she couldn’t identify? She craved her husband’s company until she began to invent excuses to see him. And each time they were together, Hunter showed her the same maddening friendliness that caused her teeth to grind.

Lara didn’t know what she wanted from him. She dreamed about his kisses, not the brotherly pecks he sometimes gave her, but the sweet, endless joinings of lips and tongues that set her world off balance.

Yes, she wanted his kisses. More than that, she wasn’t certain. If she allowed him to sleep with her, he would consider it his right to take her whenever he wanted. It was better to leave things the way they were. But why did Hunter have to treat her as if she were his younger sister?

In an impulsive moment, Lara sent word to the dressmaker to alter the gowns that were being made for her, and lower every neckline a full two inches.

The collection finally arrived, a pastel rainbow of silk, muslin, and cambric, with matching bonnets trimmed in feathers or flowers… silk scarves and gloves… shoes and ornamented slippers, fans of ivory, paper, and lace.

Filled with feminine pleasure in the new clothes, Lara dressed in a pale green gown that matched her eyes and made her skin seem to glow.

Her br**sts were pushed together by the plunging neckline, covered only by a translucent scarf. Knowing that Hunter was working alone in the library, she went to him straightaway. It was only polite, really, to thank him for his generosity.

Her husband sat at his desk, having removed his waistcoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, the neck of his shirt open to catch any cooling breeze that might enter the room. He gave her a brief glance and a casual smile, and returned his attention to his work. In less than a second, however, his gaze flew back to her… and stayed.

“Is that a new gown?” he asked mildly, although he knew perfectly well that it was.

Lara ventured farther into the room. “Do you like it?”

There was no change in his expression, but his fingers clamped tightly around the quill until it threatened to snap. His gaze swallowed her, taking in every detail, combing restlessly over her slender body. “The fabric is very attractive,” he replied in a monotone… but a warm current ran beneath his words, and her nerves tingled responsively. He still wanted her. She didn’t know why that pleased her, but it did.

A teasing smile hovered on her lips. “The fabric is attractive?

That’s all you’re going to say?”

A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “I would compliment the design, but a large part of the bodice seems to have been omitted.”

“A lowcut neckline is all the rage,” she replied.

Hunter made a dismissive sound and returned his attention to the open ledger on his desk. Deliberately Lara approached his chair and feigned an interest in the book. She leaned closer, her breast brushing his upper arm. The touch was accidental, but a responsive thrill shot through her body, and she knew that Hunter felt it too. He inhaled sharply and dropped the quill, scattering drops of ink across the desk.

“I’m trying to work,” he growled. “I can’t think with your br**sts hanging in my face.”

Stung, Lara drew back. “You were the one who insisted that I have some gowns made. I merely wanted to show one to you. I had some misbegotten idea of thanking you.”

“Yes, well He half laughed, half groaned, and reached for her before she could turn away. He caught her h*ps with one arm, clamping it hard around her bu**ocks. Pulling her between his thighs, he stared at her hungrily. “The gown is beautiful,” he muttered. “And so are you. As a matter of fact, it hurts to look at you.”

“Hurts?”

“My entire body is one large ache.” Bringing her one step closer, he pulled at the silk scarf and dropped It to the floor. With a suddenness that left her stunned, he buried his face in her exposed cle**age, his half-open mouth dragging over her breast, tongue touching the cool ivory smoothness. “You’re making me insane,” he mumbled, the bristle of his jaw making her skin tingle. “No, don’t pull away…

let me-” Lara jumped in shock as he found her nipple through the delicate muslin of her gown. “Stop it…

stop!”

He released her with a frustrated snarl, standing to glare at her from his full height. “You knew full well what you were doing, coming in here dressed like that. Don’t blame me for snapping at the bait.”

Lara bent and fumbled for the fallen scarf. “I-I didn’t ask to be mauled.”

“Do you know what they call a woman who deliberately arouses a man and then withholds herself?”

“No,” she said shortly.

“A tease.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you. Perhaps I may have desired a kiss, or a compliment, but I hardly think-” “My feelings for you don’t stop at kisses. Dammit, do you think it’s easy for me, living under the same roof, seeing you every day and never touching you?”