probably best to keep her mind occupied with other things. She strolled about the room, noting its magnificent elegance and symmetry. The great sash windows were wide and multipaned to allow the maximum amount of daylight in; the walls were intricately tiled … yet oddly and utterly bare of paintings or personal touches of any kind.
Contemplating that unusual fact, Ariana’s eyes drifted to the great gilded lighting fixture suspended from the ceiling, illuminating … the bed.
She gulped and looked away. Was it just her nerves creating an illusion or had the bed really been designed as the focal point of the room?
The click of the door latch shattered her thoughts, and she whirled about, her heart thudding in her chest.
Trenton lounged formidably against the closed door, watching her with predatory intensity. In his black dressing robe he loomed, an ominous shadow in the dimly lit room, his shoulders massive, his features set in harsh, unfathomable lines.
Ariana felt a chill go up her spine as his cobalt stare bore through her, then raked her slowly from head to toe. He spoke not a word but began moving purposefully toward her.
“Would you care for a drink, Your Grace?” Totally unprepared for the impact of having a man … especially this man … in her bedchamber, Ariana blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Immediately, she wanted to kick herself for sounding such a ninny.
Trenton came to an abrupt halt, his brows drawing together in a scowl that displayed neither mockery nor amusement but annoyance. “I’m not thirsty. And my name is not ‘Your Grace.’”
Ariana curled her fingers tightly into her palms to stop their trembling. “I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I thought ‘Your Grace’ was the proper form of address for a duke.”
“It is.” His enigmatic gaze flickered briefly to her clenched fists. Then, wordlessly, he closed the distance to where she stood, lifting her chin with a strangely gentle forefinger. His scowl had vanished, in its place a look of tender understanding. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold.”
“Broddington is well heated. Seldom in August do we need a fire for additional warmth.” He glanced toward the unkindled marble fireplace. “Would you like me to light one?”
“No,” she whispered, willing her knees to stop knocking. “I just …”
“Frightened, misty angel?” It was no taunt, but a question, uttered with the same sensitive insight he’d shown in the maze.
And suddenly her answer was the same one she had given him then.
“No.” Ariana shook her head slowly from side to side.
“Good. Because there is nothing here for you to fear. Nothing.” Trenton stroked her cheek, slid his warm, strong hand beneath her heavy auburn mane to caress her nape.
Ariana’s breath came a bit faster, and she stared up at him, wide-eyed.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, running the knuckles of his other hand along the slender column of her neck, down to the lacy yoke of her gown. His eyes followed the path his hand had taken, lingering on the spot where the curve of her breasts disappeared beneath the thin cotton material. “God, I can hardly wait to see how beautiful.”
Ariana knew what was going to happen the instant she felt his hand tighten around her nape, drawing her forward. She was astonished to find herself leaning toward him, raising up on her toes and lifting her face to meet his descending mouth.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he muttered thickly. “Let the fire that burns between us take over.”
Ariana’s eyes slid shut, her emotions suspended, waiting, her intuition alerting her to the fact that this moment would forever divide her life into before and after.
Their lips touched, brushed, touched again. And then Trenton’s mouth opened over hers in a soul-shattering kiss that dragged the breath from her lungs … and gave it back again, consuming her and pervading her all at once.
How wonderful, her dazed mind proclaimed. How
Contemplating that unusual fact, Ariana’s eyes drifted to the great gilded lighting fixture suspended from the ceiling, illuminating … the bed.
She gulped and looked away. Was it just her nerves creating an illusion or had the bed really been designed as the focal point of the room?
The click of the door latch shattered her thoughts, and she whirled about, her heart thudding in her chest.
Trenton lounged formidably against the closed door, watching her with predatory intensity. In his black dressing robe he loomed, an ominous shadow in the dimly lit room, his shoulders massive, his features set in harsh, unfathomable lines.
Ariana felt a chill go up her spine as his cobalt stare bore through her, then raked her slowly from head to toe. He spoke not a word but began moving purposefully toward her.
“Would you care for a drink, Your Grace?” Totally unprepared for the impact of having a man … especially this man … in her bedchamber, Ariana blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Immediately, she wanted to kick herself for sounding such a ninny.
Trenton came to an abrupt halt, his brows drawing together in a scowl that displayed neither mockery nor amusement but annoyance. “I’m not thirsty. And my name is not ‘Your Grace.’”
Ariana curled her fingers tightly into her palms to stop their trembling. “I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I thought ‘Your Grace’ was the proper form of address for a duke.”
“It is.” His enigmatic gaze flickered briefly to her clenched fists. Then, wordlessly, he closed the distance to where she stood, lifting her chin with a strangely gentle forefinger. His scowl had vanished, in its place a look of tender understanding. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold.”
“Broddington is well heated. Seldom in August do we need a fire for additional warmth.” He glanced toward the unkindled marble fireplace. “Would you like me to light one?”
“No,” she whispered, willing her knees to stop knocking. “I just …”
“Frightened, misty angel?” It was no taunt, but a question, uttered with the same sensitive insight he’d shown in the maze.
And suddenly her answer was the same one she had given him then.
“No.” Ariana shook her head slowly from side to side.
“Good. Because there is nothing here for you to fear. Nothing.” Trenton stroked her cheek, slid his warm, strong hand beneath her heavy auburn mane to caress her nape.
Ariana’s breath came a bit faster, and she stared up at him, wide-eyed.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, running the knuckles of his other hand along the slender column of her neck, down to the lacy yoke of her gown. His eyes followed the path his hand had taken, lingering on the spot where the curve of her breasts disappeared beneath the thin cotton material. “God, I can hardly wait to see how beautiful.”
Ariana knew what was going to happen the instant she felt his hand tighten around her nape, drawing her forward. She was astonished to find herself leaning toward him, raising up on her toes and lifting her face to meet his descending mouth.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he muttered thickly. “Let the fire that burns between us take over.”
Ariana’s eyes slid shut, her emotions suspended, waiting, her intuition alerting her to the fact that this moment would forever divide her life into before and after.
Their lips touched, brushed, touched again. And then Trenton’s mouth opened over hers in a soul-shattering kiss that dragged the breath from her lungs … and gave it back again, consuming her and pervading her all at once.
How wonderful, her dazed mind proclaimed. How
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