“Don’t mistake my silence as displeasure. I am honored.” He swallowed and dug a finger beneath his cravat to loosen it. “However, before I consider how to proceed I want to know why me and now.”
Because there was much about Rothwell to be impressed by—tall; dark haired; broad, muscled shoulders. He commanded attention wherever he went and to be alone with such a man in her own surroundings did terrible things to her senses. She might actually swoon.
That he was so out of countenance pleased her. From the moment he had kissed her, she had hesitated to name the force that plagued her. It might be described as lust, but she’d never experienced that. Yet the heat of his gaze now seared through her body and did terrible things to her composure. She wanted to twine her body around his and never let go.
Even now, with her interest in the open and the heat in Rothwell’s gaze evident, he still refused to act. Perhaps he looked at all women as potential candidates to grace his bed but he didn’t necessarily follow through in bedding every one.
The thought was disheartening. She liked him best of all the gentlemen she knew. Disappointed, she pulled her robe closer about her body. “Forgive me for taking up your valuable time. I’m sure you have other, more interesting activities planned for your evening.”
He caught her arm to prevent her flight. “Wait. Our discussion hasn’t ended.”
“But my courage has.” She turned for the door and an end to her embarrassment, slipping from his soft hold easily. “Good evening, my lord.”
He caught her before she made her door, his hands firm on her upper arms, his body behind her. “I’m willing. I’m just surprised. Why would you need courage for me? Has Farnsworth given you another fear to conquer? I promise you few men are cruel like that.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I hope not.”
They were alone. His seduction could begin. He drew her against his body and when her spine landed against his chest, she shuddered. Warmth penetrated her robe where they touched and took her breath away. His hands slid up her arms firmly and she tried not to start from the unfamiliar sensations he stirred. Yet her whole body thrummed with anticipation at the sensation of his attention.
His soft sigh against her hair made her jump. Rothwell stilled, breath caught as he inhaled, and after a time, he released her. “Are you sure about this? I will not seek to detain you should you change your mind.” Rothwell’s voice was a soft murmur, full of patience and perhaps even a touch of understanding.
She faced him. “This is what I want.”
Rothwell twined his fingers through hers and tugged. “Then follow me.” He drew her back to his bedchamber and through the door, shutting it softly behind him.
Ahead lay his large, empty bed. She risked a peek at him. Although this moment marked a turning point for Arabella, Rothwell appeared calm, as if such an act was almost mundane. He didn’t immediately ravish her. He seemed completely at ease.
Could she really hope that London’s most debauched rogue would introduce her to carnal pleasures? It seemed she could.
The next moment, Rothwell stood before her, a devilish grin on his lips. He caught her fingers in his and squeezed, then dipped his head to brush his lips over her hot cheeks. “Lovely.”
Arabella shook her head, puzzled by his behavior. “Thank you.”
When he loosened the tie on her robe, his fingertips brushed her stomach and she sucked in a sharp breath. She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. She could do this and not feel fear. Yet, as her robe slithered down her arms and Rothwell tossed it across the room to land on a chair, she feared her legs might give way.
His arms curled around her back and held her against him. “You can change your mind.”
She met his gaze quickly. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
He frowned. “Arabella, you are trembling.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…” She swallowed quickly. “I’ve never been in this situation before. I find you quite overwhelming.”
“I don’t mean to be.” He grinned suddenly. “Shall we talk first?”
All they had done was talk. Arabella leaned forward to kiss him instead. Although taken by surprise, he quickly kissed her back. As before in the gardens, Rothwell’s kisses turned her legs to butter. She sagged against him for support even as he drew her closer against his chest. Through the thin nightgown, the cold metal buttons of his waistcoat dug into her body, reminding her how little she was dressed by comparison. Was there a polite way to ask a man to disrobe?
Rothwell eased back a touch even while he continued to kiss her. His fingers flew over his waistcoat and discarded the garment, ending the discomfort. He broke the kiss and stared at her. “I was leaving tomorrow.”
Arabella frowned. “You were.”
Rothwell leaned his head against hers and sighed. “I thought it best, but now I don’t know what to think.”
All the gossip she’d heard of his restless habits crowded her mind. He was hardly the type of man to consider a long-term relationship that gave him so little, and she could never forget he was on the hunt for a wife. She had only tonight left with him. “You always do the right thing, Rothwell.”
He met her gaze and then smiled, the same devilish smile that she had seen before but never received. “Flatterer.”
She laughed too. “The truth.”
Of course he couldn’t stay with her forever. Even tonight, she’d practically forced him to make love to her and whatever happened between them she wouldn’t regret it.
Rothwell circled behind her. His fingertips brushed her spine above her nightgown and she shivered again. “You are the most sensitive woman I have ever met.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Is that good or ill?”
He reached around her body without touching her and caught the ties on her nightgown. “You are so aware of everything I do. Every touch. Every brush of my hands about your beautiful body. It’s as if you’ve never done this before, but that couldn’t be so.”
Her anxiety returned as he loosened the cord holding her nightgown in place. She should tell him. Confess her most embarrassing secret. She was eight and twenty years old and still a virgin. It was humiliating to need another man to fulfill her husband’s failing.
Her nightgown fell to her feet and she stared at it, her face heating. She was naked. After a few more moments, Rothwell’s fingers traced a short distance down her spine and then back up again. She dragged in a deep breath, expecting him to pounce, to touch flesh that craved attention.
When he walked away, she followed his progress. He picked up a banyan that had been draped across the end of his bed, the one she’d always worn at his London town house, and flicked the silken fabric around her. She stared at his face—his mouth was pursed as he tied the robe securely around her waist.
Why had he stopped? Had she done something wrong? Did he not like what he saw?
His hands rose to cup her skull. “May I take your hair down?”
In all she had heard about seductions, they were quick and required the minimum of undressing. Taking her hair down hadn’t come into her calculations.
When she nodded, Rothwell lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. She sighed at the warmth of his kiss, and he took advantage and swept his tongue across her parted lips. She kissed him back, glorying in sensations as he drew her flush against him. Kissing Rothwell was something she would miss when he was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Damn it to hell. Arabella was an innocent. Merrick would stake his life on it. Since their kiss that afternoon, he had watched her closely for signs that she’d welcome intimacies between them. He’d been disappointed until she’d said she wanted him, but had then wondered why she was so nervous about being with him in his room.