Season for Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page B

halted.
    This careful courtesy would drive her mad. “No, I have it.” She unfastened her pearl choker, then removed the matching earbobs. “I suppose I ought to keep these in some sort of case.”
    “I should think so,” said Kirkpatrick. “Since they’re only the first of many jewels, aren’t they? That was one of the conditions of our marriage.”
    “Right. That’s right.” The smooth orbs felt heavy as a chain in her hand. With a click and a clatter, she let them fall to the top of the walnut vanity. “Now what?”
    “Now would you like me not to help you remove your slippers?”
    “That would be acceptable.” She bent to ease her heels free from the snug satin footwear, then kicked the slippers off. Without them, she stood a few inches shorter, and she seemed to look up at Kirkpatrick from a great distance.
    “What next?” Her mouth felt dry.
    He had to clear his own throat before he spoke. “Most likely you will need assistance with your gown. Shall I help you with that?”
    “It should be my turn, I think. I ought not to help you with one of your own garments.”
    “Do you have a recommendation?”
    “You wouldn’t need any help with your cravat.”
    “Very true. I would not.” His lips quirked. Clever fingers worked at the intricate knots of linen, and Jane watched, rapt and breathless, as he began to unwrap himself.
    She stepped closer, standing at the foot of the bed facing him. A yard separated them, no more, and she could see dark stubble faintly shadowing his jaw. The cravat fell away and the opening of his shirt pulled wide, revealing the straight line of his throat, the chiseled hollow at his collarbone.
    Jane wanted to put her tongue into that hollow, but she squelched the impulse. If a bit of glove-tugging had been too much for Kirkpatrick’s composure, a sudden licking would doubtless send him into a fit of laughter.
    So she gave him a cool smile. “Now you may remove your coat without my help.”
    “Actually, I’m not sure I can. It’s very snug, and it took the assistance of my manservant to get me into it.”
    “Should we call him in?”
    He tilted his head. Jane dragged her eyes up from the vulnerable line of his throat to see his face. He looked . . . damn it, he looked good. Patient. Kind.
    As he always did.
    “Jane, do you truly want us to call in help? Your maid and my manservant? Or—might we do for each other?”
    Somehow, she managed to sound calm. “We could, if you like.”
    “What would you like?”
    Anything. You. Anything with you . “Doing for one another would be fine.”
    They stared at each other for several seconds before she broke the silence. “Boots or coat first?”
    “How about the coat?” His grin was a revelation, wry and sweet.
    In her stockinged feet, Jane clambered onto the bed. Kirkpatrick turned to face her. “Ease it back from each shoulder first, then we’ll tug at the sleeves.” He shook his head. “Fashion can be a hindrance, can it not? But I couldn’t be unfashionable on our wedding day.”
    Their eyes caught. Held. Her calm resolution vanished like smoke in wind. “I like your coat,” she said. “And now let’s take it off.”
    Kirkpatrick’s own face looked a bit ruddy, if the gray-filtered light was to be trusted. She doubted he was a virgin—somehow, men never were—but he shared at least one characteristic with Jane: neither of them had ever had a wedding night.
    She laid one hand, then the other, on the eggshell satin of his waistcoat. Palms flat on his chest. It was a strange sensation, to know that she might touch him as much as she liked.
    Mine , she thought, just as I’ve always wanted. Her own heart hurried to match the thumping of his, a wonder beneath her palm. She could have remained thus for minutes, hours, allowing the realization to sink through her body and mind.
    He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, slid them. Her palms skated up his chest; his breath hitched. Then her fingers caught beneath the