Seducing the Groom Read Online Free PDF Page A

her breasts and her lower womanly regions.
    She met his sweltering glare with one of her own, refusing to have him assume she was timid or disturbed because, in reality, she wasn’t alarmed in the slightest. Thrilled, yes. Discomfited by his height and audacity, yes. Uneasy at having him behold her nudity, yes.
    But she wasn’t scared.
    He looked like a predator that had swooped upon its prey, and his gaze rudely meandered down her anatomy, lingering on her breasts and her mound. Then he traveled up, languidly, indecently appraising every aspect of what she’d willingly displayed for his enjoyment and enticement.
    “This is my dressing room,” he caustically pointed out. “What are you doing in here?”
    “I’m about to take a bath.”
    “Your bedchamber is down the hall.”
    “I know.”
    “Why aren’t you in it?”
    “I’m having the suite remodeled, so I had the housekeeper move my things. Just until the work is completed.” Valiantly, she strove to seem free of devious intent, but she needed to regain her equilibrium, so she sauntered away—from his stern scowl, his domineering presence—and casually strolled to the dressing table.
    “How long will that be?” he asked.
    “A few months, I’d guess.”
    “A few months!”
    “Yes.”
    She bent over, peering into the mirror and examining her face, when it dawned on her that she was furnishing him with an exceptionally naughty sight. Her bare bottom was sticking out, her thighs spread, the muscles taut and tight down the backs of her legs. His reflection was visible in the glass, though she doubted he’d noted it, and she paused, scrutinizing him, curious as to what he’d do next.
    He was directly behind her, by the tub but transfixed, his attention riveted on her. The wanton position had impelled him to a higher vigilance, and he missed no detail. Furtively, she clutched the dressing table, buttressing herself so she wouldn’t nervously jump up and end the prurient spectacle before he was finished.
    Stalking toward her, he traversed the floor in three quick strides. He reached out to seize her hips, but she straightened before his hands descended. She was too modest to have him touch her there so soon. Acting as if being naked was an ordinary occurrence was arduous enough. She wasn’t about to allow him to manhandle her before she’d been kissed.
    She needed more time to adapt.
    He had her jammed against the dressing table, so she couldn’t ward him off or escape. Her thigh and hip were crammed between his legs, and she could feel the protrusion in his pants that attested to how much he lusted after her.
    The discovery should have been a victory, but she couldn’t celebrate. She was panicked, her virginal naïveté rearing up and causing her to tremble.
    Oh, how she hoped he hadn’t perceived her quavering! She couldn’t let him detect how apprehensive she was. Lest she lose this first round in their battle of wills, she had to maintain her cool façade of sophistication and shamelessness.
    “I don’t want you sharing this room with me,” he said.
    “I promise I won’t be a bother.” Smiling, she endeavored to be flirtatious, even though she wasn’t very adept at coquetry. “You’ll scarcely notice I’m about.”
    “Not bloody likely,” he muttered, and he flexed his hips, further trapping her against the furniture, his titillation increasingly manifest.
    Astoundingly, he commenced fondling her breast, massaging the mound and the elongated tip so that it peaked into a painful bud. She inhaled sharply, and her stomach clenched, but other than those minor recoils, she stood tall, imperious, comporting herself as though strange men caressed her breasts as a matter of course.
    “What game are you playing?” he barked.
    “I play no game with you,” she haughtily alleged. “I’m merely seeing to my nocturnal ablutions. You’ve interrupted me, sir.”
    “I’m not a buffoon, Ellen. Don’t toy with me.” His hand slithered to her