“Good lack-a-daisy, Clara!" her aunt reproached her. "The man might dress improperly, but he'sbehaving like a perfect gentleman otherwise. And being wonderfully kind to the lassies, too. Why do youinsist on being rude to him?""Yes, mademoiselle," Morgan teased, "do explain yourself." Settling back against the carriage, hecrossed his brawny arms over his chest. The muscles strained against the flimsy cambric shirt, making hermouth go dry. Why must a scoundrel fit only for hell possess a body fit for heaven?”

“[Tess] “Your penis has forgotten we’re divorced,” she muttered.“My penis always had a thing for you,” he said.The way the words rumbled in his chest, vibrated against her back, shouldn’t have turned her on, but her body remembered him, too, the fit of him, the slide of him, the way he fit, just right. Better than the damn vibrator, which didn’t include his weight over her, his hands on her body, his mouth on her breasts.”

“Ren took off his jacket, which slicited a squeak from Jennifer who was now totally focused on Ren's golden-bronze biceps. His perfectly fitted muscle shirt showed off his extremely well-developed arms and chest. I hissed at him quietly, "For heaven's sake, Ren! You're going to give the women heart palpitations!”

“Her body pressed against his felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the way she fit against him as though they were made for this embrace was overwhelming.”

“Her tongue touched his, hesitant, almost shy. It was enough. Enough to bring their past, their passion, their desire, rushing back to him. He groaned, low and unabashed, and plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth, his hands snaking around her waist to snare her shirt in two tight fistfuls. She whimpered in reply, the sound pushing him over the edge.With another groan—this one far more aggressive—he yanked her to his body, taking utter possession of her mouth as his hands roamed her back. She fit to his frame with perfection, firm and soft and lush. Nothing had changed. Her body against his ignited a primitive need in him he’d never been able to vocalize, not in song or word, no matter how many times he’d tried. It sparked a want beyond the physical.”

“Perhaps we should spice up our next wager."A wary look entered her blue eyes. "How?""By wagering your mother's necklace against...your clothing."She froze, her arms over her head, her eyes wide. "My clothing?""Yes. Your gown-against your mother's neckace." His body was already hard at the thought of her standing before him in nothing but her chemise and stockings.Sophia lowered her arms with a teasing smile. "I doubt it will fit you."A surprised laugh broke from him. "That would be a sight. But to be crystal clear, if I win this hand, you will disrobe for me.”