One side of his mouth kicked up in a pained smile before he pulled her to him and kissed her again, not stopping until she was clinging to him once more, breathless with excitement. “While I would like nothing more than for you to do something, Empress, I think we have done rather too much as it is, considering someone could enter at any time.”
The words shook her from her reverie like a splash of ice water. Her attention flew to the door—unlocked—just waiting for another fencer to make the same mistake she had and to stumble upon them.
“Oh!” She leapt up, wincing at the pain that shot through her arm at the movement. Stuffing her free arm into the sleeve of the ruined jacket, she turned away from him and hurried to the far corner of the room, working on the long row of buttons fastening the garment. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t, of course, been thinking of anything but him.
“You seem to have forgotten a critical piece of your disguise.”
She whirled toward the lazy words to find him walking calmly toward her, running the length of linen that had flattened her breasts between his fingers. As he closed in on her, he whispered, “No one will believe you’re a man with those gorgeous breasts left to their own devices. Frankly, no one should believe it with your magnificent—”
“Thank you,” she said firmly, staying his words, ignoring the wash of heat on her cheeks and taking the linen from his hands.
“You’ll need my help, lovely.”
No. She couldn’t allow him such an intimate task. She would simply have to risk discovery—Benedick’s coat allowed a modicum of coverage. Unwittingly, she looked down at herself, as though measuring the obviousness of her cleavage.
It was quite obvious.
Ralston seemed to read her thoughts, taking the linen back from her. “You should be discovered in seconds, Empress. Best let me help.” His gaze took on a wicked gleam. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled at his words, so ridiculous were they. His face broke into a wide grin and, after a moment’s thought, she gave in. Slipping out of the jacket once more, she shyly turned her back to him, holding one end of the fabric tight against her breasts. She waited for him to begin wrapping her in the linen, but he did not move. After a long minute, she looked over her shoulder to find him mere inches away, watching her. She offered him a questioning look.
“Turn.”
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. He wanted her to spin into the bandages, instead of standing still and allowing him to wrap her. She did so, slowly, understanding almost immediately the seductive nature of the situation. Something about the movement, about his dark blue eyes on her as she spun, made her feel like a temptress—his Salome. He did not touch her as she turned, dancing only for him; instead, he allowed her to choose the speed and the strength with which she was bound. And when she reached the end of the fabric, she spun right into his arms.
Holding her gaze, Ralston tucked the end of the linen into the bindings before he took her face in one hand and tilted it up for another kiss. This one was soft and sweet, his lips brushing gently across hers in an excruciatingly slow caress, leaving her heart pounding and her mind reeling. With his other hand, he stroked one flattened breast gently, teasing the protected skin until she wanted to tear off the bindings again.
He broke off the kiss and leaned down, setting his lips to the edge of the linen, softly laving the sensitive skin straining above the bindings. “Poor, lovely darlings,” he murmured, worshipping her with hands and mouth, raising her temperature and sending another wave of passion pooling deep within her.
Just as she thought she might not be able to stand if he continued, he stopped, bending to retrieve her fencing jacket, carefully pulling it over her bandaged arm and tucking her into it, deftly fastening the buttons as she watched, her emotions wreaking havoc on her ability to accomplish anything useful.
When he was done, he stepped away, toward the pile of fencing accoutrements they had abandoned earlier. She watched as he stopped just off the mat to pick up the piece of paper that had fallen unseen when he had removed her bindings. She immediately recognized it and was spurred into motion, calling out, “Wait. Don’t.”
He paused in the act of opening the folded sheet and, curiosity in his blue eyes, watched her approach. She placed one hand over his, taking hold of the paper and attempting to pull it from his fingers, but his grip tightened.
“Why not?” he asked, his words smooth and teasing.