Intimate Deception by Laura Landon Read Free Book Online

around her shoulders and flowed in beautiful waves that cascaded down her back nearly to her waist. A sheer white chemise, so thin he could see the outline of her shapely legs in the glow of the firelight, covered her body. She wore nothing beneath it.
    For someone so slender, her breasts were round and full. Her waist was narrow and her hips fanned out with the fullness of age, but not unseemly so. She was not so very tall, but he knew when he stood next to her the top of her head would reach nearly to his chin. He was glad. He hated how he towered over most females. Hated the way he dwarfed them.
    She was older, perhaps twenty-eight or -nine.
    He smiled. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who didn’t make him feel like he’d stolen her from a schoolroom.
    He walked toward her, his fingers pulling his cravat loose. “Good evening, Deborah. Genevieve tells me you’re new.”
    “Yes.” She smiled a shy greeting, then took another hesitant step forward.
    Her timidity was endearingly sweet, and he smiled in hopes of relaxing her. “Would you prefer to talk a while first?”
    Her eyes widened. “No. I mean…not unless that is what you prefer.”
    He shook his head. “No. That is not what I prefer.” He shrugged out of his coat.
    She stepped up behind him and took his jacket from his shoulders, then placed it over the back of the chair. He removed his waistcoat next and handed it to her. Then his cravat and finally his shirt. She placed each item on the chair and watched him closely as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.
    “Please, allow me to do that,” she said, her voice soft and seductive.
    He nodded and leaned back, bracing his hands behind him on the mattress. When she reached down to pull his boots from his feet, he noticed her hands shook slightly. That realization pleased him.
    He stood when he was bare except for his trousers. “Should I light a candle?”
    “Would you mind if we…didn’t?”
    “Not at all.” He stepped closer to her and brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Making love in the moonlight is always more enjoyable.”
    She lowered her head and stepped toward him. She lifted her chin slowly, her gaze taking in his features. She didn’t seem disappointed by what she saw, and Vincent felt an uncharacteristic warmth at the realization that he pleased her.
    Their gazes locked and he couldn’t move, couldn’t turn away from her. For a moment they remained frozen until, in a slow, intimate gesture, she raised her hand and pressed her palm to his cheek.
    Her movement was at first light and tentative. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the line of his jaw, then moved upward to lightly brush across his forehead. But in time she became more confident.
    “You are a man who worries much,” she whispered, rubbing a finger over his brow.
    He smiled, something he didn’t often do. But he’d had enough to drink that the smile came easily. Enough to drink that her touch affected him more than a woman’s touch usually did. Enough to drink that he was completely enamored of the innocent warmth of the woman giving herself to him. “Only occasionally,” he answered, forcing his hands to remain at his sides to keep from rushing ahead too quickly. His resolve didn’t last long.
    Vincent reached for the hand pressed against his cheek. Her hand seared his flesh where she touched him. He turned it over, then pressed his lips to her palm.
    The intake of her breath affected him. A need so powerful he could barely control it consumed him. He wanted her. Wanted to bury himself deep inside her and take out his needs and frustration until he could forget all he’d lost.
    He placed his palms on her shoulders, then slowly ran his hands up and down her arms. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head and rested his forehead against hers.
    “You’re perfect.”
    “As are you.”
    She placed her hands on his chest and slowly moved them upward until her arms were