Stranger in My Arms(64)

He didn’t argue the point.

Seeing that his earlier anger had abated, Lara began a careful apology.

“My lord, about Lady Carlysle-” “Let’s not speak of her. She doesn’t signify.”

“Yes, but I-” “It’s all right, Lara.” He released her hair and touched the side of her throat. “Sweet . go back to your room.

Stunned by his words, Lara stared at him silently.

“It’s not because I don’t want you,” Hunter said, standing to remove his coat. He draped the garment around her shoulders and closed it over her front.

“In fact, the sight of you in that negligee is more than I can bear.”

“Then… why?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Because I realized tonight that I can’t play games and claim your body as the prize. I thought I could, but…” He stopped and gave a huff of self-mocking laughter. “Call it a scruple I never knew I had.”

“I want to fulfill the bargain-” “I don’t want you this way, as if you owe me something. You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll be damned if the only way I can have you is through coercion.So… go back to your room. And lock the door.”

The moment was a revelation. Lara’s amazed stare seemed to make him uncomfortable. Hunter turned and went back to the bed, hoisting himself onto the corner and waving her to leave with an abrupt gesture.

Lara didn’t move. A new feeling of trust unfurled inside her as she realized that he would never again force himself on her, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how badly he wanted her. She had always been a little afraid of Hunter, his dominating and callous nature, but he had somehow changed the rules between them, and now…

She felt as if she were on the edge of a chasm, suspended in the breathless instant before she threw herself over.

It would be easy to take the escape he offered. Lara stared into her husband’s expressionless face. As he had once pointed out, she had survived other nights with him. This could certainly be no worse.

Perhaps it would even be a great deal better. Hesitantly she pulled the coat from her shoulders and went to her husband.

“I want to stay with you,” she said.

When he made no move to touch her, she crawled onto the bed beside him.

Hunter’s dark, questioning gaze locked on her face.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Nervous but deterinined, she touched his face, his shoulder, encouraging him to take her in his arms. Hunter remained motionless, perplexed, staring as if she were an apparition from a dream.

She slid her fingers into the space where heat collected between his shirt and cream silk waistcoat. Her hands flattened over the broad cage of ribs and muscle. His stillness encouraged her, and she moved to the carved mother-of-pearl buttons, freeing them one by one until the waistcoat gaped open. She tugged at the knot of his cravat then, finding the starched linen difficult to loosen. Although she sensed him staring at her face, she concentrated on the task before her, finally managing to unwind the length of white cloth.

The points of his collar sagged open, revealing skin that was humid and chafed from the confining cravat. Lara tossed the starched linen aside and slid her hand to the nape of his neck, rubbing it softly. “Why do men wear their cravats so high and stiff?” she asked. His eyes half closed at her touch. “Brummell started them,” he muttered. “To hide his swollen neck glands.”

“You have a very fine neck,” Lara said, drawing a fingertip down the length of his brown throat. “It’s a shame to hide it.”

The stroke of her finger made Hunter inhale sharply, and he caught her wrists with startling swiftness.

“Lara,” he warned unsteadily, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

With her wrists still imprisoned, Lara leaned forward. She drew her lips over his in light, repeated brushes, tempting, offering, until he caught her with a lush openmouthed kiss. She answered the pressure and welcomed the touch of his tongue, exploring his mouth with growing curiosity.

Hunter released her arms and lowered her to the bed, kissing her mouth and cheeks and throat. Lara reached around his neck, staring at the silhouette of his head and shoulders above her. “Don’t stop kissing me,” she said, craving the taste of him.

Hunter cradled the back of her head in his hands.

His mouth covered hers in a deep, compelling kiss that made her heart race and her knees draw upward as if she could curl herself around him.

She couldn’t precisely remember the last time he had made love to her, only that it had been perfunctory, accomplished without a single word or caress.

How differently he touched her now, his fingertips moving over her like butterfly wings. He drew the hem of her negligee up to her knees, then bent to her legs and kissed them… the arches of her feet, the tender inside of one ankle. Lara let him pull her leg higher, wider, and her body jerked as she felt the nip of his teeth in the sensitive hollow behind her knee.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“I… no. .1 don’t know.”

He pressed his face against the inside of her thigh, until she felt the prickle of his beard through the thin silk of her gown. “Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice muffled. “Or what you don’t like. Tell me anything you want.”