was set, her eyes hard. I waited to see what she would do next. A completely boring evening had suddenly turned interesting. A mundane life, exciting. It didn’t matter if I had guests down the hall. Nothing mattered but her.
“As much as I’m enjoying the show, is there a reason for your arrival?”
She tossed her cloak to the settee, then lifted her delicate fingers to her bodice. “You want me? I’m tired of fighting it. Fighting you. You’ve ruined me, taken away my livelihood. Fine. You win, my lord.”
She started to unbutton her bodice. The stirrings of desire whispered through me. I didn’t dare move, sure I’d misheard her, afraid I dreamt. First her bodice, then her skirts. She struggled with the corset, but managed. Hell, those curves outlined under her shift were all hers. Attraction roared through my body, a heated wave that threatened to drown me.
Just when I started to push away from my desk to stop her, she pulled the shift over her head, dropping the material to the ground. She stood in only her drawers and stockings. My heart thumped wildly against my chest. My fingernails bit into the desk top. I wanted to cup those lovely breasts, to take the hard nipples into my mouth and make her squirm. I wanted to trail my tongue down her belly, toward her very heat. I wanted to taste her, have her, own her.
Trembling, she rested her thumbs at the waist of her drawers and lowered the material down her smooth thighs, taking her stockings with her. She stood there naked, gleaming in the firelight like a wood nymph come to seduce. She did not cower, but met my gaze with challenge in her eyes.
I dare you, she seemed to say.
I’d slept with the most beautiful women in England, had mistresses who could make a man cry out with so much pleasure, you’d sell your soul to have more. But never had I experienced anything as erotic as Ginny undressing in front of the firelight. Greedy, I took in the gentle slope of her shoulders, those lovely breasts, down her flat belly to the dark hair shielding her femininity, to her round hips and long legs…
My cock throbbed hard and painful against my trousers. She stood amongst the pile of dreary clothing as if she’d arisen from the ashes, looking every bit the seductress. Hell, she was throwing herself at me. I could take her then and there on the rug. Perhaps lay her upon the settee. My desk. Be done with my irrational attraction once and for all. Then send her on her way with some money, and be back in the dining room before they missed me. She was ripe and ready…so why did I hesitate?
Because I wanted to savor the woman. I wanted more than a quick fuck. I wanted her in my bed for hours…days. Desperately. I wanted to see how far she would go, how loud her moans would be. Would she purr like a kitten, or scratch like a tiger? Hell, I wanted her to belong to me. Only me.
I steeled myself. “I’m not interested at the moment.” The air went utterly still. I could practically feel her humiliation from across the room. I’d called her bluff. I started around my desk. “However, if you’d like a maid’s position, I’d be happy to hire you.”
“Go fuck yerself, me lord.”
A smile lifted the corners of my mouth. Stubborn and proud. But her pride wouldn’t be appreciated in a respectable household. If she wanted to stay here as my mistress, she’d learn to obey. I turned slowly, and leaned against my desk, watching her. She was fumbling in her haste to dress. It was a shame to see that lush body covered with those damp, ugly clothes. When she was mine, I’d dress her in silks and satins. A bold red or vibrant blue.
I crossed my arms over my chest as she buttoned her bodice. She was stubborn, but she wasn’t stupid. She would relent, and I would have her in my home on my terms. “What will you do? Live on the streets?”
It took a moment for me to realize the odd tapping sound I heard was coming from her chattering teeth. She wasn’t scared, she was freezing. Frowning, I took in her damp hair, her equally wet clothing. If she didn’t get warm soon, she’d catch her death. Hell, had she walked all the way here in the sleet?