His pulse throbbed. It was a gamble, demanding this from her. Much as he wanted her and the pleasures of her body, there was a chasm within him that demanded a deeper knowledge of this extraordinary woman. Perhaps he might not know the secrets of her mind and heart, but in the long years ahead when he was mired in cold, passionless duty, he could warm himself with embers of remembrance.
Her room gave some clues as to who she was. Though it was simply furnished, there were touches of vivid color everywhere. Vibrant green fabric draped across the foot of her bed, the table was painted a sunny yellow, and bright blue curtains hung in the window. A half-read book lay atop the table, though he couldn’t see the title. Pictures from fashion journals were pinned to the walls, and a vase of purple Michaelmas daisies perched on a windowsill.
No pictures or miniatures of family.
Her silence stretched on, and each moment without her answer drew tautly along his flesh.
“An incentive,” he said. “For every truth given, an article of clothing will be removed.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. The quick, carnal action stoked the flames within him even higher.
Finally, she said quickly, “You go first.”
Instead of giving in to the urge to pump his fist in victory, he inclined his head in agreement.
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