26
" Catherine drew out an object wrapped in soft cloth. Gently she unwrapped a new pair of spectacles made of silver... gleaming and perfect, the oval lenses sparkling. Marveling at the workmanship, she drew a finger along one of the intricate filigreed earpieces, all the way to the curved tip. "They're so beautiful," she said in wonder.
"If they please you, we'll have another pair made in gold. Here, let me help you..." Leo gently drew the old spectacles off her face, seeming to savor the gesture.
She put the new ones on. They felt light and secure on the bridge of her nose. As she looked around the room, everything was wonderfully detailed and in focus. In her excitement, she jumped up and hurried to the looking glass that hung over the entryway table. She inspected her own glowing reflection.
"How pretty you are," Leo's tall, elegant form appeared behind hers. "I do love spectacles on a woman."
Catherine's smiling gaze met his in the silvered glass. "Do you? What an odd preference."
"Not at all." His hands came to her shoulders, lightly fondling up to her throat and back again. "They emphasize your beautiful eyes. And they make you look capable of secrets and surprises- which, as much as we know, you are." His voice lowered. "Most of all I love the act of removing them- getting you ready for a tumble in bed."
She shivered at his bluntness, her eyes half closing as she felt him pull her back against him. His mouth went to the side of her neck.
"You like them?" Leo murmured, kissing her soft skin.
"Yes." Her head listed to the side as his tongue traced a subtle path along her throat. "I... I don't know why you went to such trouble. It was very kind."
Leo's dark head lifted, and he met her drowsy gaze in the looking glass. His fingers went to the side of her throat, stroking as if to rub the feel of his mouth into her skin. "I wasn't being kind," he murmured, a smile touching his lips. "I merely wanted you to see clearly."
I'm beginning to, she was tempted to tell him, but Poppy returned to the apartment before she was able. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Married by Morning (The Hathaways, #4)
28
" After the combined efforts of Poppy and the maid, Catherine was dressed in a pale seafoam gown, neither blue nor green but some perfect shade between the two. The bodice was close-fitting, stylishly cut without a waist seam, the skirts plain until the knee, where they draped in rows of flounces. The matching jacket, tailored to the waist, was trimmed with silk fringe in interwoven shades of blue, green, and silver-gray. A small, flirtatious hat was set on the upsweep of her hair, which had been done in a waterfall chignon with the ends tucked up and pinned beneath.
To Catherine, who had gone so long without wearing anything pretty or modish, the effect was disconcerting. She was a stylishly turned-out woman in the looking glass, decidedly feminine and dashing.
"Oh, miss, you're as pretty as the girls they paint on tins of sweets," the housemaid exclaimed. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Married by Morning (The Hathaways, #4)
30
" 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-"
"This has nothing to do with me," she said hastily.
"I beg to differ. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Married by Morning (The Hathaways, #4)
39
" Everything was blurry. She needed her spectacles. And it was awfully difficult to go looking for something when you couldn't see more than two feet in front of your face. Moreover, if one of the housemaids found the spectacles in Leo's room, or God help her, in his bed, everyone would find out.
Abandoning the slipper, Dodger trotted to her and stood tall, bracing his long, slender body against her knee. He was shivering, which Beatrix had told her was normal for ferrets. A ferret's temperature lowered when he was sleeping, and shivering was his way of warming himself upon awakening. Catherine reached down to stroke him. When he tried to climb into her lap, however, she nudged him away. "I don't feel well," she told the ferret woefully, although there was nothing wrong with her physically.
Chattering in annoyance at her rejection, Dodger turned and streaked out of the room.
Catherine continued to lie with her head on the table, feeling too dreary and ashamed to move.
She had slept late. She could hear the sounds of footsteps and muffled conversation coming from the lower floors. Had Leo gone down for breakfast?
She couldn't possibly face him.
Her mind returned to those blistering minutes of the previous night. A fresh swell of desire rolled through her as she thought of the way he had kissed her, the feel of his mouth on the intimate places of her body.
She heard the ferret come back into the room again, chuckling and hopping as he did whenever he was especially pleased about something. "Go away, Dodger," she said dully.
But he persisted, coming to her side and standing tall again, his body a long cylinder. Glancing at him, Catherine saw that something was clamped carefully in his front teeth. She blinked. Slowly she reached down and took the object from him.
Her spectacles.
Amazing, how much better a small gesture of kindness could make one feel.
"Thank you," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she stroked his tiny head. "I do love you, you disgusting weasel."
Climbing onto her lap, Dodger flipped upside down and sighed. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Married by Morning (The Hathaways, #4)
