utterly unimpressed with his attributes irked him as well. There were scores of women in London who found him most impressive. But this country chit appeared perfectly calm, while he felt downright flustered.
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more her composure irritated him, pushing him to needle her out of her complacency. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was how to throw a woman off balance. Looking directly into her eyes, he asked in a soft, flirtatious drawl, "I take it that it was you who disrobed me?"
Hectic color suffused her face and her amusement disappeared like a snuffed-out candle. She jerked upright, dropping his forearms as if he'd scalded her. "I … I merely assisted Winston and Grimsley. Time of was of the essence."
Her flustered reaction cheered him considerably, settling his ruffled feathers back into place. He could have stopped, but some inner demon urged him on. How much deeper could her cheeks glow? Curving his mouth into a slow grin, he said, "Well, as there's apparently nothing under this sheet that you haven't already seen, I suggest we … proceed."
Her cheeks reddened beyond crimson, stopping just short of scarlet. She swallowed visibly. "Proceed?"
"Yes. Why don't you hand me the robe?"
She hesitated, but didn't refuse his request. She held the black silk robe behind him and averted her head so quickly, he thought he heard her neck snap.
Feeling much more in control of himself and his situation, Stephen carefully slid his arms into the sleeves, his ribs groaning with every motion. After he tied the sash around his waist, he slowly brought his legs over the edge of the bed and, by grasping Hayley's arms, eased himself into a sitting position.
Waves of dizziness washed over him. Nausea cramped his stomach and for an awful moment he feared disgracing himself. He gritted his teeth and took slow breaths, as deep as his protesting ribs would allow. After several minutes, the dizziness and nausea passed.
Summoning all his strength, he grasped Hayley's hands and rose shakily to his feet. His damn legs felt like water, and he was forced to grab her shoulders for support. She wrapped her arms around his waist and supported him until he felt steady.
When he stopped wobbling, she asked, "How's that?"
Stephen looked at her and was almost thrown off balance as he found himself staring directly into her eyes. "Jesus! How tall are you?"
She raised her brows, her earlier embarrassment seemingly gone. "Exactly six feet in my stockings. How tall are you?"
"Six feet two." Stephen stared at her, amazed. He'd never seen such a strapping woman. She was a veritable Amazon. The women of the ton he associated with were almost exclusively petite, as were his mistresses. Who the hell ever heard of a six-foot-tall woman? But in spite of her height and drab clothing, she exuded a soft, feminine grace.
"Well, how utterly delightful that you are taller than me. Not many men are, you know."
"Yes, I can well imagine."
With her face only inches from his, Stephen could easily see that instead of being offended, she seemed to find his comments humorous.
"Believe me, I'm quite accustomed to my ungainly height and you of all people should be happy for it. I couldn't have dragged a large man such as yourself from that ravine had I been a tiny petite miss. In truth, my height is only a disadvantage on the dance floor, as I generally tower over all my partners' heads. Since I seldom attend dances and am rarely asked to dance when I do, I don't have too much to worry about."
Stephen listened to her words with half an ear, his efforts concentrated on not swaying on his feet. He grasped her shoulders, and her hands rested lightly on his waist, supporting him. The warmth of her palms touched him through the thin silk robe. With those incredibly full lips right in front of him and her beguiling aqua eyes looking into his, a sudden rush of blood flooded his loins. He let go of her so quickly, he nearly
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more her composure irritated him, pushing him to needle her out of her complacency. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was how to throw a woman off balance. Looking directly into her eyes, he asked in a soft, flirtatious drawl, "I take it that it was you who disrobed me?"
Hectic color suffused her face and her amusement disappeared like a snuffed-out candle. She jerked upright, dropping his forearms as if he'd scalded her. "I … I merely assisted Winston and Grimsley. Time of was of the essence."
Her flustered reaction cheered him considerably, settling his ruffled feathers back into place. He could have stopped, but some inner demon urged him on. How much deeper could her cheeks glow? Curving his mouth into a slow grin, he said, "Well, as there's apparently nothing under this sheet that you haven't already seen, I suggest we … proceed."
Her cheeks reddened beyond crimson, stopping just short of scarlet. She swallowed visibly. "Proceed?"
"Yes. Why don't you hand me the robe?"
She hesitated, but didn't refuse his request. She held the black silk robe behind him and averted her head so quickly, he thought he heard her neck snap.
Feeling much more in control of himself and his situation, Stephen carefully slid his arms into the sleeves, his ribs groaning with every motion. After he tied the sash around his waist, he slowly brought his legs over the edge of the bed and, by grasping Hayley's arms, eased himself into a sitting position.
Waves of dizziness washed over him. Nausea cramped his stomach and for an awful moment he feared disgracing himself. He gritted his teeth and took slow breaths, as deep as his protesting ribs would allow. After several minutes, the dizziness and nausea passed.
Summoning all his strength, he grasped Hayley's hands and rose shakily to his feet. His damn legs felt like water, and he was forced to grab her shoulders for support. She wrapped her arms around his waist and supported him until he felt steady.
When he stopped wobbling, she asked, "How's that?"
Stephen looked at her and was almost thrown off balance as he found himself staring directly into her eyes. "Jesus! How tall are you?"
She raised her brows, her earlier embarrassment seemingly gone. "Exactly six feet in my stockings. How tall are you?"
"Six feet two." Stephen stared at her, amazed. He'd never seen such a strapping woman. She was a veritable Amazon. The women of the ton he associated with were almost exclusively petite, as were his mistresses. Who the hell ever heard of a six-foot-tall woman? But in spite of her height and drab clothing, she exuded a soft, feminine grace.
"Well, how utterly delightful that you are taller than me. Not many men are, you know."
"Yes, I can well imagine."
With her face only inches from his, Stephen could easily see that instead of being offended, she seemed to find his comments humorous.
"Believe me, I'm quite accustomed to my ungainly height and you of all people should be happy for it. I couldn't have dragged a large man such as yourself from that ravine had I been a tiny petite miss. In truth, my height is only a disadvantage on the dance floor, as I generally tower over all my partners' heads. Since I seldom attend dances and am rarely asked to dance when I do, I don't have too much to worry about."
Stephen listened to her words with half an ear, his efforts concentrated on not swaying on his feet. He grasped her shoulders, and her hands rested lightly on his waist, supporting him. The warmth of her palms touched him through the thin silk robe. With those incredibly full lips right in front of him and her beguiling aqua eyes looking into his, a sudden rush of blood flooded his loins. He let go of her so quickly, he nearly
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