Page 62 of Love, the Duke
“I have never seen a man with beautiful hair, Ophelia. Or beautiful anything or that matter.”
His mood and easy conversation relaxed her even more, while she enjoyed their inconsequential banter.
“That can’t be true. Most of the gentlemen I saw at your sporting club meeting were beautiful specimens of men.”
He grinned. “You were looking over the men in my club? And in my house?”
“I had no choice.” She countered his teasing with an innocently playful smile, and then took another drink from her glass. “You will remember I waslookingforyouamong them. I couldn’t help but notice all were young and built very much like you through the chest and shoulders. All tall, and quite handsome too.”
“Handsome?” he quipped with a frown. “It’s a good thing I arrived when I did or you might have run away with one of them.”
Ophelia sipped her champagne before saying, “I doubt that would have been a possibility with the way I was dressed, but I was afraid Mr. Sawyer was going to ask me a sporting question I couldn’t possibly answer and realize I wasn’t part of the club before I could find you.”
“I will teach you anything you need to know about sports, and many other things as well,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes. “But I think it best I keep you away from the members of my club before you start eyeing them again.”
The sensuality in the way he looked at her with such intense desire made her want to kiss him for as long asshe wanted. Still, she asked with a bit of seriousness to her tone, “You aren’t really worried about me being attracted to one of the men, are you?”
“No.” In one swallow he finished his drink and placed the glass on the table by the bed. With no warning, he pulled the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, tugged it up over his head and tossed it onto the slipper chair in the corner.
Merciful heavens!
Ophelia gasped with pleasure at his boldness to bare his chest in front of her. Seeing him without a shirt caused a flutter in her stomach. She flushed. Golden light from the lamp made his skin appear a gorgeous shade of bronze. Her gaze raked over the wide span of his sculpted, rippled chest that looked as firm and prominent as the muscles in his arms. His skin appeared smooth, firm, and bulging with strength. There was no other way to put it. He was magnificent.
She couldn’t help saying, “I didn’t expect you’d be so, so—”
He smiled. “Tempting?”
That’s exactly what she was thinking but remained quiet as she continued to be mesmerized by his perfect physique.
Hurst closed the short distance between them. Taking the glass from her hand, he placed it beside his before lightly brushing her cheek with the pads of his fingers. Staring deeply into her eyes, he asked, “Do I tempt you when I touch you, Ophelia?”
“Yes,” she answered. “There is no mystery, no doubt. It is the simple truth.”
“Good. A man wants to tempt his wife to touch him. As you tempt me to caress your beautiful skin.”
Engulfed by the desire his words wrought, she ran heropen hand softly from one end of his chest to the other, feeling the rise and dips of the various muscles along the way. She then let her hand wander down his rippled abdomen to the band of his trousers, and then up and over his shoulders and arms. Each muscle jerked and tensed as she felt the contours.
Thrills like she could have never imagined swept through her. It had never occurred to her she might one day touch a man as she was touching Hurst. His skin felt as smooth as it looked. Her fingers splayed, fanning out to take as much of his strong upper arm into her palm as she could to feel its weight. The muscle was hard and warm like a freshly picked apple on a hot and sunny summer afternoon.
Staring directly into his eyes, she whispered in a hushed breath, “Never again say you are not beautiful, sir. You are, but there is one thing about you that I’ve been wanting to see.”
His brows rose with interest. “Really?”
She nodded without reluctance.
Another teasing smile spread across his face. “Is this thing above my waist or below it?”
“You are being very naughty, Your Grace.”
He chuckled softly. “You are the one being inquisitive about my body, my wife.”
“Some of it for sure.” She grinned. “When you came to pay your respect to Maman, I overheard the two of you talking about a scar on your forehead from an injury when you were a boy and jumping over their fence.”
“So that is the part of me you haven’t seen that has enraptured your curiosity? I have to say I’m more than a bit disappointed.”
She loved his playfulness, and supposed it was proper now that they were married. “Can I see it?”
“The scar or the—”
