Waking Up With a Rake by Connie Mason, Mia Marlowe Page B

it’s fun.”
    He was right. It was fun. Her skin was glowing. Her insides were a riot of excitement. She’d never felt more alive.
    Or more guilty.
    “It’s also wicked.”
    He grinned at her. “That, my dear, is part of its charm.” Then the grin faded. “But the truth is you are still as pure as when we began this lesson, are you not?”
    “If you want to split hairs, I suppose—”
    “A simple yes will suffice. In fact, ‘yes’ is all I want to hear from you for a while.” Rhys smoothed his palms down her ribs, the calluses at the bases of his fingers nicking her skin with prickles of pleasure. He settled them on her hip bones where the nightrail neckline was still perched. “May I show you how beautiful you are all over?”
    Yes, please. I know I’m not plump and pretty like Miss Amanda Pinkerton. I know my hips are too narrow and my legs too thin. I know my—
    “Olivia?”
    She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “Show me.”
    ***
    Rhys drew a deep breath. Wanting had left him hard put to keep his voice from going ragged. As well as hard in another way. Now it would take all his self-control not to go too far with this first lesson. He’d meet Mr. Alcock’s expectations eventually. There was no need to rush matters.
    Olivia trusted him. He wasn’t about to betray her tonight. Not when he needed her trust in order to keep her safe.
    Gently, he eased her nightrail down, over her hips, past her lovely heart-shaped bum, and let it drop to the floor. He purposely didn’t look in the mirror. He wanted her to watch him as he took in the exquisite lines of her back, her buttocks, and legs. He wanted her to see the glow of masculine approval in his face, because he was sure he was fairly lighting the room with it.
    Rhys ran his fingertips across her shoulders and down her spine. He dallied at the small of her back and then traced the crease under each bum cheek.
    “Oh!” she squeaked out.
    “Like that, did you?”
    “It was…enlightening.”
    “In what way?” He met her eyes in the mirror now.
    She dropped her gaze. “I’m learning that certain parts of my body seem to be linked to other parts in ways I’d hitherto not suspected.”
    He reached around and slipped a finger under her chin. “Look at me.”
    When she looked up at his reflection, the whites showed beneath her dark irises, making her eyes seem even larger than usual. Her mouth parted softly. She looked so vulnerable, as if she hung upon his next words.
    “You are beautiful, Olivia,” he said softly. “In every part.” He let his gaze sweep down the mirror past her breasts, her slender waist, her tight little belly button, to the sleek triangle of light brown curls at the apex of her thighs. “Especially there.”
    He looked back up at her face and smiled.
    She caught her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment, and then a smile stole over her, luminous enough to brighten the whole room. Rhys knew he should feel guilty over what he was doing with this innocent, but if he helped her believe in how lovely she really was, surely that wasn’t a bad thing, was it?
    Of course, he’d be the first to admit he was a bit fuzzy on the whole concept of good versus bad of late.
    Once, his sense of “ought-ness” had been as well-honed as a preacher. One ought to do this. One ought not to do that. Even if his actions often placed him on the outside of the fence of propriety, at least he knew where the fence was.
    Now he wasn’t so sure.
    He shook off his niggling conscience and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Do you feel beautiful?”
    “When you look at me like that, I do.”
    “Then you should let me be your mirror all the time.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and was pleased to find she was only trembling a little. She wasn’t afraid of him.
    Perhaps she should have been.
    “You said parts of your body seem to be connected in unexpected ways. When I touch you here—” he circled her breasts with his hands, teasing