“I have studied male anatomy for my art. We drew and sculpted nudes in class.”
“Indeed?” His eyebrow rose.
“The French are much more liberal than the English and more accepting of women artists.”
“But art is different from real life.”
“Clearly. You are…much larger than I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
Realizing that he had noted her intent scrutiny, Venetia felt herself blushing wildly, which was absurd, given the carnal intimacies they had just shared. “I don’t know exactly. I have little firsthand knowledge.”
“Your innocence is appealing.”
Both of her eyebrows lifted. “To a man as experienced as you? You astonish me. Given all your numerous lovers, I should think you would prefer skill.”
His mouth curved. “You vastly overestimate my promiscuity.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, and you vastly underrate your appeal.”
“I hardly think so. You don’t want me specifically.”
Traherne gave a pained laugh. “Of course I want you. I would have to be dead not to want you.”
“What I meant was that you would lust after any woman. I am not so special.”
“You are wrong. You are very special. And I want you very badly.”
Venetia stifled the wistful longing that coursed through her and replied with a laugh. “Flattery comes as naturally to you as breathing, doesn’t it. You use pretty words as tools of seduction.”
“My desire is not mere flattery. Male arousal may be a natural reaction to sleeping with a beautiful woman, but that doesn’t explain the intensity of what I feel for you. Shall I show you how much I want you?”
At his provocative question, her heart leapt in her chest. The absurd thing was, she wanted Traherne to want her. How contrary was that? Perhaps it was womanly pride, or perhaps it was much more personal.
She shied away from that rebellious thought and swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat.
When she remained silent, he gave a faint smile. “I know you want me, too.”
“I do not,” she lied.
“Your body says differently. Your breasts are swollen. Your nipples are puckered….” He raised a finger to brush her throat. “Your pulse is very rapid. See? You shiver at my slightest touch. You can’t honestly say you don’t want me.”
No, not honestly, Venetia reflected. She was keenly aroused, she admitted.
&nb
sp; Traherne was still thoroughly aroused as well. His voice was husky and low when he pressed her. “You feel heat at your core. That is sexual craving, my love.”
He shifted his hand to touch her mouth with his fingertips. The sensuality in even that light contact was like a lightning bolt, but it was his gaze that had the greater impact. She stared into his eyes and felt herself being drawn in.
He was mesmerizing her again, she realized to her dismay.
Inhaling sharply, Venetia visibly pulled back from the spell that held her, and forcibly steeled herself. His confidence was intimidating, and she very much disliked feeling intimidated. Even more, she despised feeling defensive and powerless.
Venetia took a deep breath. It was time she turned the tables on Traherne. She wanted to be his equal, not a victim of his skilled seduction. Somehow she had to prove that she could stand up to him, or he would forever use his knowledge of her weaknesses to trample all over her.