His Contract Bride (Banks Brothers Brides 1)(39)

Her skin heated under his hand. "I was so angry because of the things  she'd said to me about being an embarrassment to you and not deserving  to be married to you. She'd mentioned the need to redecorate your  townhouse half a dozen times. And, I knew you wanted me to, because I'd  overheard you mention to Lord Sinclair that you'd asked me to  redecorate, but I hadn't. Then, he told you to remind me of my duty."  She closed her red rimmed eyes and sniffled. "I remember when you first  gave me the tour, you mentioned that I couldn't possibly make it worse  if I tried. I was so angry, I wanted to prove you wrong and just acted  without thinking. I'm so very sorry, Edward."

"I'm not," he said, his voice hoarse and raw. "And you shouldn't be,  either." He glanced around the atrociously decorated room as new respect  for his wife, and the strong person she really was under it all, built  in his chest. Nobody would ever dare do something like this. Her reasons  for doing this might not have been ideal, but at least she'd shown  signs of having a backbone and being capable of standing up for herself.  "Regina, can I interest you in another room at Watson Estate that would  benefit from your extraordinary redecorating skills?"





~Chapter Twenty-Eight~





Regina's breath caught at hearing those words, all the former terror and  feelings of shame she'd had a moment ago forgotten. She turned to look  at him, and the heated look in his blue eyes sent a shiver skating down  her spine. There was no misunderstanding his meaning.

Regina made no protest as he led her from the drawing room to the  staircase. At the top of the oak staircase, he steered her to the right.

Excitement pumped through her when he opened the door. Never before had  he said anything so forward nor had he initiated intimacies before her  maid had helped her into that atrocious nightgown that she'd vowed never  to part with as it was quite apparent that her husband enjoyed seeing  her in it.

Perhaps she should put it on for him...

"Edward, should I put my nightgown on for you?"

"Unless by that you mean put it on fire for me, then the answer is no."  He opened the door to his bedchamber and ushered her in. "I want nothing  separating your skin and mine."

"But-"

He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "I don't know who put such a  foolish notion in your mind that I'd think of you as a lightskirt for  exposing yourself to my gaze, but I intend to drive that from your mind  before the night is through." Then, without allowing her time to  protest, his lips took hers in a kiss that made her weak in the knees.

His right arm snaked around her midsection, keeping her upright, as his  mouth continued its gentle assault on hers. His tongue licked the seam  of her lips and she gasped. Edward took full advantage of her response  and pushed his tongue past her lips to explore the inside of her mouth.  He swept his tongue across her left cheek, then right.

Spurred on by a boldness she didn't fully comprehend, Regina mimicked his actions, marveling at the way he tasted.

"Regina," he panted, pulling back. "I want to see you. All of you."

Regina trembled at his words and the determination in his voice. What if he didn't like what he saw? "Edward, must you?"

Edward's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Trust me, Regina. Please?"                       
       
           



       

Her former thought turned to dust. Edward was different. He was not the  sort who looked for her flaws and mocked her for them. She could trust  him. She lowered her lashes, hoping he'd take her meaning.

He must have for his lips were suddenly back on hers while his nimble fingers worked the buttons along the back of her gown.

"Turn around," he rasped when he'd freed the last button.

Regina turned her corseted back to him then nearly fainted when she  realized she was now facing a large upright mirror that showed her  reflection from her head down to her knees.

"No protests," he murmured, pressing his lips against the curve of her neck just below her jaw.

Regina moved her head to the side to give him better access, which he  took. Dropping openmouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck, he  continued to unlace her corset. When he finished untying her, his hands  settled on her hips, his lips still exploring every inch and contour of  her neck. Slowly, his hands inched up her sides then moved to her back.  His fingertips reached her shoulders, slipping underneath the top of her  gown.

Edward moved his mouth to the spot where her shoulders joined her neck  and gently nipped the skin, then soothed it with his tongue. She sighed.  His warm tongue drew a path across the back of her neck to the same  spot on the other side, where he repeated his former action, eliciting  the same response from her. Never taking his mouth from her skin, Edward  moved his head to the left, kissing each inch of freshly exposed skin  he was revealing with his slow removal of her gown from her shoulders.  He reached the tip of her shoulder and lifted his head. In the mirror,  she could see the rigid expression on his face as he watched her  reflection while he lowered first her gown and then her stays to the  floor, leaving her clad in only her chemise.

Regina kept her eyes trained on her husband's image in the mirror as she  stood in a heap of satin and cloth that reached just below her knees.  He'd seen her wearing this much, and less, yesterday. But he hadn't  looked at her thus when he'd seen her then. Before, he'd been red in the  face, and had kept running his hand through his hair or looking away at  something of interest off in the distance. But not now. Now, his jaw  was clenched. His eyes were dark and intense, looking directly at her  image.

He lifted his hands then and her skin grew warm with anticipation of  where he'd touch her. When they finally found what they were reaching  for, she quirked a brow. "Is something about my hair not to your  liking?"

"Yes. I think I should like to see it down," was all he said before  removing every pin that held her thick hair in a sophisticated bun.

Her hair fell over her like a thick curtain, covering her shoulders and  breasts all the way down to her waist. It was the first time she'd had  her hair down in his presence and it almost felt as intimate as him  removing her gown.

"Beautiful," he murmured, running his fingers through her locks. He  pulled it all together in the back and ran his hands down the length  before releasing it to hang behind her back and moving his hands to her  shoulders.

Her skin tingled at his touch. His thumbs brushed back and forth over  the straps of her chemise, each stroke stoking the fire that simmered  her blood.

His fingers closed around both straps that held her chemise on, then  followed the straps backward to where they met the top edges of her  chemise. He let go of the straps and traced the outline of her chemise,  his fingers dancing on her skin just below her shoulder blades. With a  slowness that was exciting her in ways she never thought possible, he  slipped his hands under her fallen arms to continue the path along her  chemise. Her anticipation built. What would he do next? He'd never  touched her this way before.

His hands continued their slow movement across the top of her chemise,  brushing ever-so-gently across her swollen breasts. Her breath hitched  and her nipples formed hard points that could now be seen in the mirror  under his large hands.

He lowered his eyelids and removed his hands from her as if the simple task took every ounce of strength he possessed.

"Is something amiss?"

"No," he said, his voice quiet and strained. "But if I don't stop myself now, you might not get a fair opportunity."

"A fair opportunity?"

His only response was to step out from behind her and to the side. His  fingers which had been so nimble only a minute ago worked jerkily at  removing his coat and cravat. Discarding the items, he kicked off his  shoes and untucked his shirt. Regina's mouth went dry. He meant to  remove all of his clothes for her. That was the opportunity he must have  meant.

She tried not to stare at him while he pulled his shirt over his head.  She had seen his bare chest only yesterday-had slept on it the night  before, in fact. That didn't matter. She still wanted to see it again.  She loved the way his honey colored skin was such a stark contrast to  the white linen shirt he was removing. Now that they were in better  lighting and she wasn't embarrassed about her own appearance, she could  take him in and soak up the details of his chest. It was wide and  muscled with a small patch of curling hair that ran down the center  toward his equally muscled stomach.