Although his eyes blazed with hunger, she knew he wouldn’t move until she gave her permission. And she was enjoying herself. Slowly she backed up, eyes roaming up and down the whole of him, until she reached the bed. He said nothing, just waited. It was the most erotic thing that Edie had ever experienced, knowing that this magnificent, powerful man was entirely at her service.

If she directed him to kneel, he would kneel. Not that she wanted him to kneel, but the power she held over him was dizzying. She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the motion. A blaze of fire went down her legs. She clenched her knees together, wondering what to do next.

“What would you like me to do?” His husky voice broke into her thoughts. His fingers were on his towel. “Would you like me to remove this?”

Edie took an unsteady breath, then nodded slowly.

He threw the towel off, and it was better than she remembered. His private part was long and thick. She wanted . . .

What did she want?

“Anything you’d like me to do, my lady. Anything at all.” His voice lapped at her like velvet. But at the same time, she could feel her busy mind starting to get in the way of pleasure. What should she do?

He must have seen the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, because he sauntered around to the other side of the bed and stretched out there. “You see,” he said, “I am not touching you.”

She acknowledged this with a nod.

“But perhaps you’d like to remove your robe?”

She wasn’t sure about that.

“I won’t touch you,” he said. Though he added, “Unless you ask me to, of course.”

She managed to collect herself. She might as well remove her robe, because it was awkward to be clothed next to a naked man, especially a naked man to whom she happened to be married. It felt wrong, somehow. So she removed it, leaving only her nightdress. Then, before she could rethink it, she pulled off her nightgown and threw it to the side.

To her utter horror, the desire in his eyes instantly disappeared and a curse exploded from his lips.

She looked down at herself. “What’s the matter?”

“I can see your ribs!” He burst from the bed, and his hands spanned her body just beneath her breasts. Then he jerked her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll never leave you again.” It was a vow.

“What do you mean?” Her heart was pounding, and not from pleasurable anticipation. She leaned back to see his expression.

“Layla told me you didn’t eat.” He had gone dead white, and his voice was hoarse.

“I—”

A look of utter panic crossed his face. “I have to feed you.”

At that, Edie began to enjoy herself. She hadn’t paid much attention to the fact she’d lost weight, though she had noticed that her bosom was somewhat smaller. Layla’s dresses definitely wouldn’t fit these days.

“Is there any food downstairs?”

She nodded. “Bardolph always leaves food, in case the river floods and the footmen can’t reach me for a time.”

Gowan let her go and disappeared, stark naked, down the stairs. “Good thing I don’t allow footmen to stay in the tower,” Edie muttered to herself. She walked over to a chair by the fire and sat down, crossing her newly slim legs, and wondering what would happen next.

She didn’t wonder long, because Gowan burst back in the room, carrying a plate. He scooped Edie up and sat down with her in his lap. She was naked, except for her bed slippers, which were remarkably elegant and decorated with narrow pink ribbons. She stretched out a leg and wiggled her toes. “What is your opinion of my new slippers, Your Grace? Layla gave them to me.”

Gowan didn’t even glance at the slippers. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Against all odds, she was enjoying herself more than she had in her entire life. “What are you feeding me?”

“I don’t know. I found them on the sideboard.”

“Apple dumplings!” Edie exclaimed. They were shaped into a fluted flower on top. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Open,” he repeated.

She obediently opened her mouth, and he popped a dumpling inside. He put the plate down, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her tight against him. Layla was right—she had lost interest in food during the weeks Gowan had been gone, but now the dumpling’s cinnamon and sugar tasted wonderful. Her appetite had returned.

“You promised not to touch me unless I asked,” she observed, after she’d swallowed. “You broke your word. Is there a forfeit?”

“We are not making love at this moment,” Gowan said. He reached for another dumpling, drawing in a sharp breath as he strained his ribs. “I will not have you starve yourself.” His tone was fierce and he was being possessive again, but somehow it was all right this time.

But after eating three of the little pastries, she had had enough. She got up from his lap and pointed to the bed. He rose, towering over her.

Edie looked up and liked what she saw. Gowan had been alarmed by her dramatic weight loss; his face was still sharp-edged, his mouth a firm line. She’d just figured something out about the Duke of Kinross. When he was afraid, he exploded with rage.

But angry or frightened, he still loved her.

She could think about that later, though, because his eyes had now dropped below her face. His mouth tightened as he reached her ribs, but then they drifted lower, to the tuft of golden hair between her legs, her curved thighs, and, finally, her delicate slippers.

When he looked back up, his eyes had gone ravenous again. “I do like your slippers. And you have the most beautiful ankles I’ve ever seen.” She saw his throat move as he swallowed. “May I kiss you, Edie?”

She shook her head no, quite enjoying herself.

“Your legs?” His voice sounded a little desperate.

“Absolutely not,” she said.

And she pointed at the bed again. And then she did the ogling, because her heart quickened when she looked at his muscled rump. And those long legs.

Gowan lay on the bed like a man accustomed to offering himself to women. It steadied her to remember that for all he liked to claim possession, he was also hers and hers alone. He’d never touched another woman. No woman had ever touched him.

She clambered onto the bed and knelt beside him, kissing his brow, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. She investigated the prickle of his beard with the tip of her tongue, returned to his mouth, wandered to his cheekbone.

Then she pulled back and began to run her fingers over all the areas she was curious about: the strong column of his neck, his broad shoulders, his arms. She dropped kisses all over her battered, bruised warrior’s chest. She ran her fingers from his wrists to his shoulders and then down to his stomach, exploring the smooth skin that sheathed rippling strength, the way he gasped, the way he started to shake.

Still, he didn’t move. He let her explore him like a new instrument, caressing, inspecting, finally tasting . . .

Words broke from his throat then, unintelligible noises, finally, oaths. Edie ducked her head so that he couldn’t see her grin. It was the most arousing thing she’d ever experienced to see a gorgeous, huge man panting with lust, yet never reaching for her. Not even when she ran her lips along the hair-roughed skin of his thighs.