[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Good morning, she said breathlessly, falling back a step. I didn t mean to intrude.
You re not intruding.
I came to fetch some books, if & if I may.
Leo gave her a single nod and returned his attention to the drawings.
Acutely self-conscious, Catherine went to the bookshelves and hunted for the titles she had wanted. It
was so quiet that she thought the pounding of her heart must have been audible. Needing desperately
to break the pressing silence, she asked, Are you designing something for the estate? A tenant house?
Addition for the stables.
Oh.
Catherine gazed sightlessly along the rows of books. Were they going to pretend that the events of the
previous night had never happened? She certainly hoped so.
But then she heard Leo say, If you want an apology, you re not going to get one.
Catherine turned to face him. I beg your pardon?
Leo was still contemplating the set of elevations. When you visit a man in his bed at night, don t expect
tea and conversation.
I wasn t visiting you in your bed, she said defensively. That is, you were in your bed, but it was not my
desire to find you there. Aware that she was making no sense at all, she resisted the urge to smack
herself on the head.
At two o clock in the morning, Leo informed her, I can nearly always be found on a mattress, engaged
in either of two activities. One is sleeping. I don t believe I need to elaborate on the other.
I only wanted to see if you were feverish, she said, turning crimson. If you needed anything.
Apparently I did.
Catherine had never felt so extraordinarily uncomfortable. All her skin had become too tight for her
body. Are you going to tell anyone? she brought herself to ask.
One of his brows arched mockingly. You fear I m going to tattle about our nighttime rendezvous? No,
Marks, I have nothing to gain from that. And much to my regret, we didn t do nearly enough to warrant
decent gossip.
Blushing, Catherine went to a pile of sketches and scraps at the corner of the table. She straightened
them into a neat stack. Did I hurt you? she managed to ask, recalling how she had inadvertently
pushed on his wounded shoulder. Does it ache this morning?
Leo hesitated before replying. No, it eventually eased after you left. But the devil knows it wouldn t
take much to start up again.
Catherine was overcome with remorse. I m so sorry. Should we put a poultice on it?
A poultice? he repeated blankly. On my & oh. We re talking about my shoulder?
She blinked in confusion. Of course we re talking about your shoulder. What else would we be
discussing?
Cat& Leo looked away from her. To her surprise, there was a tremor of laughter in his voice. When a
man is aroused and left unsatisfied, he usually aches for a while afterward.
Where?
He gave her a speaking glance.
You mean& A wild blush raced over her as she finally understood. Well, I don t care if you ache there,
I was only concerned about your wound!
It s much better, Leo assured her, his eyes bright with amusement. As for the other ache
That has nothing to do with me, she said hastily.
I beg to differ.
Catherine s dignity had been mowed down to nothing. Clearly there was no option but retreat. I m
leaving now.
What about the books you wanted?
I ll fetch them later.
As she turned to depart, however, the edge of her bell-shaped sleeve caught the stack of sketches she
had just straightened, and they went spilling to the floor. Oh, dear. Instantly she went to her hands
and knees, gathering up papers.
Leave them, she heard Leo say. I ll do it.
No, I m the one who
Catherine broke off as she saw something among the drafts of structures and landscapes and the pages
of notes. A pencil sketch of a woman & a naked woman reclining on her side, light hair flowing
everywhere. One slender thigh rested coyly over the other, partially concealing the delicate shadow of a
feminine triangle.
And there was an all-too-familiar pair of spectacles balanced on her nose.
Catherine picked up the sketch with a trembling hand, while her heart lurched in hard strikes against her
ribs. It took several attempts before she could speak, her voice high and airless.
That s me.
Leo had lowered to the carpeted floor beside her. He nodded, looking rueful. His own color heightened
until his eyes were startlingly blue in contrast.
Why? she whispered.
It wasn t meant to be demeaning, he said. It was for my own eyes, no one else s.
She forced herself to look at the sketch again, feeling horribly exposed. In fact, she couldn t have been
more embarrassed had he actually been viewing her naked. And yet the rendering was far from crude or
debasing. The woman had been drawn with long, graceful lines, the pose artistic. Sensuous.
You & you ve never seen me like this, she managed to say, before adding weakly, Have you?
A self-deprecating smile touched his lips. No, I haven t yet descended to voyeurism. He paused. Did I
get it right? It s not easy, guessing what you look like beneath all those layers.
A nervous giggle struggled through her mortification. If you did, I certainly wouldn t admit it. She put
the sketch onto the pile, facedown. Her hand was shaking. Do you draw other women this way? she
asked timidly.
Leo shook his head. I started with you, and so far I haven t moved on.
Her flush deepened. You ve done other sketches like this? Of me unclothed?
One or two. He tried to look repentant.
Oh, please, please destroy them.
Certainly. But honesty compels me to tell you that I ll probably only do more. It s my favorite hobby,
drawing you naked.
Catherine moaned and buried her face in her hands. Her voice slipped out between the tense filter of
her fingers. I wish you would take up collecting something instead.
She heard his husky laugh. Cat. Darling. Can you bring yourself to look at me? No? She stiffened but
didn t move as she felt his arms draw around her. I was only teasing. I won t sketch you like that again.
Leo continued to hold her, carefully guiding her face to his good shoulder. Are you angry?
She shook her head.
Afraid?
No. She drew a trembling breath. Only surprised that you would see me that way.
Why?
Because it s not like me.
He understood what she meant. No one ever sees himself or herself with perfect accuracy.
I m certain that I never lounge about completely naked!
That, he said, is a terrible shame. He took a ragged breath. You should know that I ve always
wanted you, Cat. I ve had fantasies so wicked, it would send us both straight to hell if I told them to you.
And the way I want you has nothing to do with the color of your hair, or the appalling fashions you
wear. His hand passed gently over her head. Catherine Marks, or whoever you are & I have the most
profane desire to be in bed with you for & oh, weeks, at least & committing every mortal sin known to
man. I d like to do more than sketch you naked. I want to draw directly on you with feather and ink &
flowers around your breasts, trails of stars down your thighs. He let his warm lips brush the edge of her
ear. I want to map your body, chart the north, south, east, and west of you. I would
Don t, she said, scarcely able to breathe.
A rueful laugh escaped him. I told you. Straight to hell.
This is my fault. She pressed her hot face against his shoulder. I shouldn t have gone to you last night.
I don t know why I did it.
I think you do. His mouth grazed the top of her head. Don t come back to my room at night, Marks.
Because if it happens again, I won t be able to stop.
His arms loosened, and he released her to stand up from the floor. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her
up with him. The sheaf of fallen papers was retrieved, and Leo took up the sketch of her. The parchment
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]