Worth Any Price (Bow Street Runners #3)(35)

"Mrs. Trench told me that you tried the shower-bath." His hand coasted from her hip to the indentation of her waist. "Did you like it?"

"It was very refreshing," Lottie managed to say.

"I'm going to watch you the next time."

"Oh, no you won't!"

He laughed quietly and offered, "I'll let you watch me, then."

Before she could stop herself, Lottie imagined him standing in the shower-bath, the water coursing and gliding over his skin, darkening his hair, steam veiling his sapphire eyes. The image was a vague one, as she had never seen a na**d man, only the engraved images in an anatomy book she had found in Lord Westcliff's library. She had pored over the drawings with fascination, wishing that certain details had been more fully articulated.

Soon she would not have to wonder.

He seemed to read her thoughts. "It's not wrong to like it," he said, stroking her midriff with his palm. "Whom will it benefit if you deny yourself pleasure? You're paying the price for my protection-you may as well get some enjoyment out of it."

"But you're a stranger," she said ruefully.

"What husband isn't a stranger to his wife? Courtship consists of a dance at a ball, a chaperoned drive through the park, and a conversation or two in the garden. Then the parents agree on the match, the ceremony is performed, and the girl finds herself in bed with a man she hardly knows. There isn't much difference between that scenario and ours, is there?"

Lottie frowned and rolled to face him, knowing there was a flaw in his reasoning, but she was unable to identify it. Gentry was reclining on his side, propped up on one elbow, the broad outline of his shoulders obscuring most of the light shed by the bedside lamp. His body was so large and sheltering, his self-confidence so substantial, that it seemed as if she could wrap it around herself like a blanket and stay safe forever.

Shrewdly, he understood her Achilles' heel-that terrible need for sanctuary-and he did not hesitate to make use of it. He slid his arm over her waist, his hand resting on the middle of her back, his thumb brushing along the stiff arc of her spine. "I'll take care of you, Lottie. I'll keep you safe and provide all the comforts you require. All I want in return is for you to enjoy yourself with me. That isn't so terrible, is it?"

He had Lucifer's own skill of making what he wanted sound perfectly reasonable. Discerning her weakness, he leaned over until the solid weight of his body was poised above her and his thigh pressed into the mattress between her legs. "Kiss me," he whispered. The sweet, drugging spice of his breath and skin sent her thoughts scattering like dry leaves in the wind.

She shook her head, even though the most tender parts of her body had begun to throb in acute longing.

"Why not?" he asked, his fingertips teasing the edge of her hairline.

"Because a kiss is something that a woman gives to a sweetheart...something you are not."

He trailed the backs of his fingers lightly over her throat, between her br**sts, down over her stomach. "You kissed me at Stony Cross Park."

A fierce blush enveloped her. "I didn't know who you were then."

His hand settled perilously low on her stomach. Were she not clothed, his fingers would have been resting at the top of the triangle between her thighs. "I'm the same man, Lottie." His hand began to stray even lower, until she caught at his wrist and shoved it away.

Gentry chuckled, and then sobered as he moved back to look at her. "I saw Lord Radnor today."

Although Lottie had expected it, she still felt a chill of alarm. "What happened? What did you tell him?"

"I returned his money, informed him of your decision to marry me, and warned him not to bother you or your family in the future."

"How angry was he?"

He held his thumb and forefinger a mere millimeter apart. "He was this close to apoplexy."

The thought of Radnor's anger filled her with satisfaction, but at the same time, she could not quell a sudden shiver. "He won't give up. He'll cause trouble for both of us, in every way possible."

"I've dealt with worse characters than Radnor," he said evenly.

"You don't know him as well as you think you do."

His lips parted as he prepared to argue. But as he saw the trembling of her chin, the aggressive gleam faded from his eyes. "Don't be afraid." He startled her by settling his palm on her chest, on the smooth reach between her throat and her br**sts. She inhaled deeply, her chest rising beneath the soothing weight of his hand. "I meant it when I told you that I would take care of you and your family," he said. "You're giving Radnor more importance than he merits."

"You couldn't possibly understand the way he has overshadowed my entire life. He-"

"I do understand." His fingers drifted to her throat, stroking the tender place where he could feel her swallowing. Such a powerful hand-he could crush her so easily, and yet he touched her with incredible gentleness. "And I know that you've never had anyone to defend you from him. But from now on I will. So stop turning pale every time his name is mentioned. No one is ever going to dominate you again, least of all Radnor."

"No one exceptyou , you mean."

He smiled at the pert accusation, toying with a lock of her hair. "I have no desire to dominate you." Leaning over her, he kissed the tiny pulse in her throat and touched it with his tongue. Lottie held very still, her toes curling inside her stockings. She wanted to put her arms around him, touch his hair, press her br**sts upward into his chest. The effort to hold back made her entire body stiffen.