A Season of Seduction by Jennifer Haymore Read Free Book Online Page A

ever-analytical part, told her that these feelings were natural, the instinctual human response to physical attraction. This instinct worked in a reciprocal fashion—by his evident state of arousal, she knew he wanted her, which in turn, made her own desire soar.
He’d moved her hair aside and was unbuttoning her dress, spreading the seams apart as he worked, his fingertips moving down her spine. Cool air washed over her newly bared flesh, and she sighed.
“I want this off you,” he said, tugging on the fabric covering her back. “I want to see you. All of you.”
She cupped his solid length in her hand and looked at him from beneath her lashes. “In that case, it would only be fair for me to see you as well. All of you.”
“You will, sweetheart.” Again, that wicked smile. “I promise.”
Becky swiped her hand up over him. Her fingers skimmed over the ridged muscles of his stomach, then higher to his chest. She traced his collarbones, then moved down his arm, fascinated by the bulges and cords of muscles that flexed underneath her hand.
She wished she were an artist. She would draw him. No—better to sculpt him, for it was his shape that took her breath away. His chiseled, sculpted body brought to mind a statue created by an Italian master and brought to life by the gods. Like Michelangelo’s David. She’d never been to Florence, but she’d seen the likenesses in books.
Compared to Jack, though, David was a slender boy. Jack was taller, thicker, sturdier, stronger, and bigger from top to bottom, especially…
Heat crept across her cheeks as she returned her fascinated gaze to that part of him that so intrigued her.
“Stand,” he commanded in a low voice.
Her gaze shot to him. If she stood, her dress would fall down, and she would be naked.
He never took his eyes from her face. Gently, he took a stray wisp of hair that had fallen over her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “You do want this, don’t you?”
“I…” Her voice dwindled, and she lapsed into honesty. “It has been a very long time. And… I was married. What if…?”
What if she’d been right about matters of the flesh overlapping with matters of the heart? What if once she gave her body to him, she lost her heart as well?
Her shields would shatter. She would no longer be safe. She’d be as vulnerable as she’d been with William.
With a low noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and a moan of dismay, he yanked her tightly against him. Her breasts crushed against the smooth heat of his chest, and she sighed in bliss. The warmth and comfort of his bare skin pressed against hers was inexplicably pleasurable.
“I’d never willfully cause you harm, Becky. Never.” His voice shook as he said it. The rawness of his tone bespoke his honesty. His body resonated with it, and she knew he told the truth.
She did trust him, as much as she could trust any soul. She truly hadn’t allowed him to crawl under her skin—well, not too much. She’d already promised herself she wouldn’t allow him—or anyone—to hurt her. If she kept up her guard, she could protect herself from pain.
“What if…?” Her voice trailed off again. There were so many “what ifs.” What if he didn’t find her up to his standards for a bedmate? What if it hurt? What if he were to get her with child?
She simply could not take this as lightly as Cecelia would. Such a joining held great significance. When she stripped off her clothes, she stripped away her only tangible shields. How could anyone take such a thing lightly?
She’d only known Jack for a few weeks. They weren’t married. If Jack possessed any desire to wed her, he’d have gone to her brother rather than to surreptitious private late-night meetings at a hotel.
“No,” he said quietly. “I won’t hurt you. I will give you pleasure. No regrets.”
“No regrets,” she repeated softly. She slipped her arms around his waist until her right arm would straighten no further and laid her head on his