It was not.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against the hot length of his body. “I’m going to undress you now.” It did not sound like a question, but he paused, and she knew it was.
She nodded, her face hot and no doubt as red as a boiled lobster. His questions, as kindly meant as they were, required her to speak, or at least respond. And the things he wanted her to say . . . oh, they were improper and embarrassing and, ultimately, frightening. Frightening because her body was pulling her toward him—toward the edge—without any approval from her mind.
He began to lift both the robe and nightgown from her shoulders, his eyes on hers as he released the garments and they fell to her feet like a silent waterfall. And then she stood before him, naked.
His gaze dropped, and he sucked in a harsh breath, his eyelids heavy. “You are a goddess.”
She reeled from his words, one hand going to her mound, the other arm across her breasts.
His expression was fierce and filled with want; he reached out and traced the underside of one breast, and she could not contain her groan.
He took her face in both hands, his expression gentling. “Go, lie down on the bed, and I will extinguish the lights.” She hesitated, and he kissed her again, his lips and tongue sliding over hers in a way that was becoming, if not familiar, at least no longer shocking.
She opened without being asked this time, even kissing him in return, the tip of her tongue darting into his mouth just as he pulled away.
He released her and went to snuff the candles.
“Do you always extinguish the candles when you do . . . this?” Drusilla asked.
He paused. “No. But I do not wish to mortify you on—”
“No, I want—”
They both waited to hear what she wanted. But she had no words, and her tongue seemed to have gone to sleep.
“I shall leave them.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded.
“But I am going to disrobe and am not wearing a nightshirt. Do you wish to see me?”
Oh, she did, she did. Her memory of that brief glance all those years ago was like a favorite blanket, worn and handled again and again until it was frayed around the edges from overuse.
“Yes.”
He led her to the bed and lifted the bedding. Drusilla crawled beneath, grateful beyond words to be covered.
“Have you seen a man before?”
“I saw you,” she blurted.
His hands froze on the sash of his robe and he frowned. Drusilla realized he’d forgotten the incident—an incident that had been so very life changing to her had meant nothing to him. But then he’d been seen by women dozens if not hundreds of times, hadn’t he?
She swallowed the thought, as unpleasant as one of the draughts her old nurse used to mix up at the sign of the first sniffle.
He laughed and nodded, his grin releasing a mad fluttering in her chest. “Ah yes, the time Eva stole our clothing.” His eyes narrowed but his smile did not dim. “You recall that, do you, my peeping wife?” His hand moved low over his abdomen, to where the silk bulged, and his palm rubbed over the hard ridge.
Drusilla’s body clenched in response.
“I don’t believe I was displaying at my finest that day.” His fingers wrapped around the ridged silk, his hand stroking absently as he gazed at his memory.
She had no idea what he meant and didn’t care. She couldn’t take her eyes from the sight of his hand, the veins prominent and the muscles of his wrists and forearms defined, clutching something that looked monstrously big.
“Look at me, Drusilla.” Whatever he saw on her face made him chuckle again and take a step closer to the bed. “Give me your hand . . . please.”
She extended the hand that was not holding her propped up.
His fingers were long, nimble, and dark against the pale skin of her wrist. He was openly amused, but when he placed her hand over the silk-covered ridge, his smile dropped away and he hissed.
Drusilla’s fingers tightened, and he shuddered. She pushed herself up, not caring when the blankets slipped away. She dragged her fingers lightly up his length, transfixed when he shivered.
His chin tilted down, and it was Drusilla’s turn to suck in a noisy breath; the expression on his face was one of fierce hunger. She closed her shaking fingers around his girth, and his eyelids fluttered