Affair of Honor

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Authors: Stephanie James
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position on the edge of the bed and went down on one knee in front of her.
    “Only if you’re interested in the Prince Charming role,” she tried to say nonchalantly and was very much afraid she failed.
    She didn’t feel nonchalant tonight. She felt elated, nervous, passionate, and high-strung. She felt a dizzying conglomeration of emotions but she didn’t feel at all nonchalant.
    “No, I’m not quite right for that role.” Deliberately Ryder put his hand on her uncovered knee and slid it silkily down her calf to the foot that still wore a shoe. Slowly he began to unfasten the buckle of the tiny red strap. “I’m much more interested in undressing you than I am in finding you a slipper that fits. Tonight I’d make a lousy Prince Charming.” His mouth twisted in a wry self-mockery that touched her heart.
    Instinctively Brenna threaded her hands through his hair and moved them slowly down to rest on his shoulders. An unbidden, feminine perception told her that he was asking obliquely for reassurance of her desire for him. How could she refuse? Tonight she wanted to give this man everything he asked.
    He looked up at her from under the tawny lashes and she smiled tenderly. “Tonight you’re a perfect Prince Charming. Exactly as I always thought Prince Charming would be.”
    Without a word he lifted his hands to pull her head down to his, and this time she knew from his kiss that the hunger she sensed in him was rapidly coming unbound. Why had he maintained it under such restraint? A man’s desire, she had always thought, was a relatively simple thing and certainly not something he bothered to conceal or control when the opportunity to indulge it occurred.
    But Ryder was different and the quality of his desire was different. She felt a hunger that was not strictly sexual underlying it and knew a fierce joy at being the one who could unleash it.
    When she moaned throatily under the impact of the spiraling kiss, Ryder lowered one hand to trace the distance from her shoulder to the tip of her breast. He drew in his breath sharply when he discovered the taut outline of her nipple and pushed her back against the quilt. He followed, coming down heavily beside her while he continued to move his thumb provocatively against the sensitive peak.
    Brenna arched upward, seeking more of his touch, and whispered his name softly into his mouth. His hand went to the bright red sash that held the white dress low on her hip. It loosened magically beneath his touch. Slowly he continued to undress her, finding the fastenings of the eyelet dress while he buried his mouth at the pulsepoint of her throat.
    “Oh, Ryder!”
    Brenna’s head tipped back over his arm in silent supplication and surrender and her eyes shut tightly against the wonder of the moment. Everything was so perfect; he was so perfect.
    “You’re so exactly right for me,” he grated in a velvet-gentle voice as the white dress slipped down to her waist and the curves of her breasts were revealed. Only the filmiest of lace and satin remained and the thrusting tips of her nipples were clearly outlined. “Small and sleek and sensuous.”
    He found the center clasp of the demicup bra and undid it. When the lacy covering fell aside, he groaned as he began to trail a string of kisses from the base of her throat to the rose-tipped crests.
    “My little lady cat burglar,” he whispered thickly as he stroked the length of her to her hips. “I wanted to do this the night you crawled through my window!”
    “No,” she protested even though the excitement was flaming through her at his words. “You didn’t want me like this. Not then…”
    “You still don’t know me that well, do you?”
    But he gave her no chance to reply as he curled his tongue coaxingly around her nipple and traced a circle that made her breath catch in her throat. Her red-gilt nails sank into the shoulders beneath the blue silk shirt as she cried out.
    Her response seemed to arouse him still further.

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