Trial by Desire

She’s yours. You might as well take her.

She frowned at him. “You’re wearing a surprising amount of clothing.”

“I am? I hadn’t realized.” The thick fabric of his trousers was the only protection he had, the scant armor behind which he could hide the truth of his physical response. He’d been erect since he’d walked in the room.

He didn’t move forward. Instead, he concentrated on the rise and fall of his breath. He was in control, not his pounding desire. Not his fevered imagination. He was in control. He wasn’t a savage.

But then she moved toward him. The gown rippled about her, fading into translucence where the light from the moon shone through. She set her hands on her hips—a movement that only cinched the fabric about that gentle curve. The material slid against her skin in a soft whisper. It was a challenge she issued him, even if she didn’t know it yet.

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