Blame It on Bath Page 0,35

elegance. Mrs. Dennis was already digging in the bureau drawers, and she looked up in shock at his appearance in the room. “We’re traveling lightly,” he informed both women. “Whatever you can’t fit in one valise must stay behind. The rest will have to be sent on later.”

“My lady needs a trunk at least,” protested Mrs. Dennis.

Gerard cocked an eyebrow. “One valise,” he repeated. “And we leave within the hour.”

His wife stared at him, dazed. “Birdie, you’d better go pack your own things,” she said at last. “I shall manage.”

“Excellent thought,” Gerard said. “One valise, Mrs. Dennis.” She glared at him but whisked out the door. He turned to his wife. “What do you need?”

She hesitated, then went to the bureau. “Unmentionables.”

He grinned at her rigid back. “Very well.” He scooped up her hairbrush and comb from the dressing table and put them in the valise. There was very little in the room. “Are you taking this?” He picked up the book from the table by the chair. Tillotson’s Sermons. He tried not to make a face. God help him if he had to watch her read this every night.

She took it from him and dropped it back on the table with a thump. “No.”

“Good.”

She glanced guardedly at him but continued packing. A stack of white linen went into the bag—unmentionables, of course—two pairs of plain sturdy shoes, and some dresses, all in plain, dark colors. “Do you not like bright colors?” he couldn’t help asking. Gerard didn’t think of himself as a dandy, but he felt like a peacock in his scarlet coat and white breeches, compared to his wife in her brown dress.

“They don’t suit me.” She put a thick shawl into the valise. Gray, of course.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” He looked at her critically. “I think red would suit you.”

Her head whipped up. “Red!”

“Yes. Perhaps blue as well. To match your eyes.”

“I have a blue dress.” She touched one dress, a blue so deep it was almost black.

“I meant something pretty,” he said bluntly.

For a moment she said nothing, just stood staring into her valise. “You don’t have to try to make me prettier, Captain. It’s hopeless.”

He crossed the room and lifted her chin, inspecting her features. “You’re not a beauty like your mother; is that what you’re trying to tell me? Well, don’t bother. I can see for myself very well how you look. If you prefer brown, I shan’t strip it from you. But for myself, I find a bit of color very beneficial to the spirits. You can’t have missed how dashing and magnificent I look in my red coat.” He purposely puffed out his chest, and a faint bit of pink came into her cheeks. He leaned down until their faces were very close. “You might try it, eh? Just one red dress, to humor me.”

“Perhaps,” she murmured.

He grinned. “Excellent. And my name is Gerard.” Then he kissed her. He meant it to be light and chaste since they really did need to be on their way soon. But this time she opened her mouth at once, and he couldn’t help tasting her. And there it was again, that flickering spark of passion. She didn’t precisely kiss him back, but she wasn’t a limp doll, either. Almost without thought, his arm went around her, and he drew her into him, deepening the kiss. He felt the tension in her shoulders and unconsciously spread his hand on her back, circling his fingers. The taut muscles under his fingertips softened, and then she all but melted into him. Her fingers curled into the folds of his sleeves, and she rose up against him.

That was enough for Gerard. He slid his hand around the curve of her skull to hold her just so, and took ownership of her mouth. Aside from the soft bursts of her breath coming faster and faster against his skin, she didn’t flinch as he delved deep into her mouth, languorously sliding his tongue across hers. He shifted his grip to brush his thumb over her jaw. She had lovely, soft skin, and for the first time he felt a genuine urgency to explore the rest of her. She was a challenge, and by God he loved a challenge, but now she was also his wife—his to kiss, his to hold, his to bed, and his to bring to the pinnacle of pleasure . . .

He lifted his head and looked down at her. Her eyelashes fluttered open, and for a

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