“So you will stay with me?” Why was there a trill in his belly at the thought?
Her deep sigh burst his satisfaction. “I suppose. But do tell me what will be happening. You know. So I can prepare.”
“Does one prepare for one’s deflowering?”
She went pink to her ears. “I imagine so.” A shrug. “I’ve never done it before.”
Neither had he. But he wasn’t letting lack of experience stop him.
“Very well. Here is what I am envisioning. We are going to have a nice meal and a conversation…and perhaps a little teasing—”
“Teasing?”
“Oh yes. You’ll see. And then, I think you would like a hot bath.”
Her eyes went wide and she shuddered. “A bath?”
“Ready to beg yet?” He had to ask because her expression was so fervent.
In response she smacked his shoulder.
“And then, I think maybe a massage.”
She blinked. “A massage?”
“Mmm hmm.” A nice, slow, seductive massage.
“Those things do sound nice…”
“Of course they do. Making love is exceedingly pleasant.”
Her mouth opened—tempting as it was—and then closed. She looked away.
“What is it, Tildy?” And then when she didn’t answer, “Tildy?”
Again, she wrung her fingers. “Does it hurt?” She peeped at him from beneath her lashes.
He had to be honest. “Sometimes it does.”
“Oh, blast.”
“But I assure you, I shall do my best not to cause you any pain.”
“How on earth can you promise that?”
“I shall do my best to make sure you are ready.”
“Ready?”
“Yes.” He took her hand in his and edged closer. “And I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Tildy. You say stop, at any time, and I will. Do you believe me?”
She gazed at him for a long while—too long for the sake of his ego. But then she said, “Yes.”
“Not every man will make that offer, you understand. Likely those who told you stories of pain had a partner like that. One who was quick and selfish.”
Her brow rumpled. “Selfish?”
He nodded. “There is pleasure enough for both if both are willing.” He cleared his throat. “Are you willing?”
“I suppose.” It was a lowering lack of enthusiasm. He took it as a challenge.
“Excellent. Shall we begin?”
She stilled. Her features went taut. Her throat worked. “Already?”
“We shall begin with something familiar, shall we? Did you enjoy the kiss we shared in the coach?”
Her curls bobbed as she nodded. “Very much.”
“Excellent. Shall we try it again?”
In response she leaned over the table between their chairs, closed her eyes and pursed her lips. When he did not leap upon her, she cracked open one lid. “Well?” she said through her pucker.
“I don’t remember us being so far away from each other,” he said, and when her brow quirked, he patted his lap.
“Surely you don’t expect me to—”
“Surely I do. If we are to make love, Tildy, we need to become familiar with each other, don’t you think? I would like you to be comfortable in my presence.”
“I am perfectly comfortable in your presence.”
“Then come here.” Another pat.
She rolled her eyes—actually rolled her eyes—blew out a huff and levered herself from the chair, coming to stand before him. He took her hand and laced his fingers in hers. And tugged.
It was awkward at first, settling her on his lap, because she was stiff as a board and tried diligently not to touch as much of him as she could. She perched on his thigh, sitting bolt upright.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.
“Perfectly.” A complete lie.
He laughed and tugged her against him. How it was possible, he didn’t know, but she stiffened even more.
“Tildy?”
It took a while for her to meet his eyes. And he was struck again by how beautiful she was. “Yes?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” It nearly killed him to ask, because, damn, she felt divine in his lap, an armful of curves and froth. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m sure there is another way to break off a betrothal.”
She thrust out her chin. “I do. I want to do this.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course I’m certain. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Then kiss me.” Perhaps if she took the lead, she would feel more at ease.
“K-k-k-kiss you?”
Or not.
“Yes. It is a simple thing really. Put your lips on mine and…” What? “Explore.”
“Explore?” Ah. That, at least, seemed to intrigue her.
“That is what we are doing, is it not? Exploring each other?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Well.” He leaned back and spread his arms wide. “Explore me. I am your canvas.”