Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (129 page)

Near-triumph coaxed a laugh from her throat as she gave over to the exhilaration of victory.

Scott

Paine saw the reason she gloated. The dress was on her side of the table. She simply had to make a dash for it and the gown would be hers. He feinted left, then right, keeping her attention while he made his decision.

He would not stand a chance if he wasted a precious second going around the small table. He would have to go over it.

Paine lunged, coming over the table and taking Julia to the ground with him. She wriggled against him, struggling, tantalising with every movement.

'That's not fair!' she protested, obviously wanting to be put out by his audacity, but not quite able to void the laughter from her voice.

'You gloated too soon,' Paine teased, enjoying the friction of her

movements against the fabric of his

trousers where she lay beneath him. He inched forwards and grasped at the hem of the gown. 'I win. I have the dress and I have you right where I want you, right where you belong.' He ground his hips meaningfully against her pelvis, his member in an overt state of readiness that could not be overlooked.

Julia angled her head back to see her discarded gown clutched in

hand. She stretched to reach and take it from him. Paine pinned her gently with the power of his body. 'Do you think I would relinquish your gown so soon after winning it?' Paine tut-tutted.

'Please, give it back to me.' The earlier playfulness was replaced with a plea. He was alert to it at once.

'All right.' Paine sat up, straddling her between his thighs. He needed to be careful not to push Julia too far.

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Notorious Rake, Innocent Lady

Such games of love-play could easily be misconstrued as something more sinister. He didn't want her frightened. That was never his intention.

'You may pay a forfeit.' He kept the tone light to remind her his intentions were not motivated by evil.

'What?' She was all wariness. She wanted to play the game, wanted to trust him, but knew better than to do so. Damn Mortimer Oswalt and her uncle for teaching her such cynicism already. It turned his insides to think of what a month of marriage, let alone a lifetime of marriage to Oswalt, would to do her.

Paine reached out a gentle hand to stroke her cheek.

'The forfeit is simple. Have breakfast with me.' He gestured to the tray waiting on the low bedside table. 'I went to a lot of trouble to put it together. I went out for it.'

'Just breakfast?' Julia queried.

'Just breakfast.'

'I can go after

'If that is what you wish,' Paine answered solemnly.

He meant it. He would keep his word, although he hoped it wouldn't be necessary. This would be a breakfast Julia Prentiss would not soon forget.

Julia sat cross-legged on a pile of colorful pillows in the middle of the floor, securely garbed in a satin robe Paine had generously loaned her from his wardrobe.

Paine lounged next to her, propped on an elbow, and dressed only in a pair of thin silk Indian-styled trousers, having forgone the wool trousers

worn out to find

breakfast. He peeled a section of orange and offered it

Scott

up to her, creating the effect that he was a loyal squire serving his queen. Having such a handsome man staring at her in overt adoration, serving her every need, was highly intoxicating.

It was also highly hazardous. She almost believed she was a queen when he stared at her thus, almost believed a host of other things, too: that last night had been more than a discharge of a duty, a fulfilment of a contract between them; that he'd felt what she'd felt at the end; that he'd stolen her dress and conjured up the forfeit because he didn't want her to go. Most dangerous of all, that there was something real between them, that their night together didn't have to end. That was the biggest folly of all.

'I love oranges. We seldom have them in the country except at Christmas,' Julia confessed, using a finger to wipe an errant dribble of juice from her chin.

'They taste better when someone else feeds them to you.'

hoisted himself up to take her head in his lap.

He looked down at her with a soft expression in his blue eyes that did strange things to her stomach. He could feed her worms for all she'd care when he looked at her like that-as if she was a divine goddess and he a devout worshipper. This man was far more rakish, far more seductive than any

had suggested. He was a con-

summate master at his trade.

'Is it always like this?' She arched her neck back to see all of his handsome visage staring down at her.

'No, hardly.' He held a succulent orange slice over her mouth and made a show of gently squeezing sweet drops