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“Afraid I’m going to try to seduce you?” I laugh.

“Mmm,” he confirms. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Before I can think of a response for that, Henrik’s mouth claims mine. His warm lips tease me, nudging with gentle insistence. For the first few heartbeats, he moves in a slow rhythm, giving me a chance to decide the pace. When I meet him, kiss for eager kiss, he slides his hand up my back and tugs me close.

He kisses away my surprised exclamation, angling his head. The sudden intensity steals my breath, and I tighten my hold around his neck, standing on my toes to try to reach him better.

I’m pressed against the commander now, able to feel the way his powerful body flexes and moves as he finally gives his careful restraints a bit of slack.

I lose a little bit of my mind, focusing on nothing but the moment. It’s finally happening, and it’s better than anything my poor imagination could have fabricated.

Henrik moves us across the room, and he breaks the kiss only to sit on the settee. He holds my hand, studying me, wearing the languid look of a man who’s thoroughly kissed a woman.

Suddenly shy, I press my lips together and look away, trying not to laugh.

“Come here,” Henrik says softly, gently tugging my hand to coax me onto his lap.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

Concern flashes across the commander’s face, and he immediately leans forward, taking my other hand as well. “What’s wrong? Too much, too soon?”

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “I’m afraid the only way to sit in this ridiculously tight dress would be to hike it up to my hips, and despite what Maisel believes, I’m not that wild.”

A smile creeps over his face, and he clears his throat as he looks down.

I step between his legs, tilting his head back so he must look at me. “We have something important to discuss.”

Henrik studies me with his solemn eyes, his smile becoming sincere. He nods, wordlessly asking me to continue.

“You do not kiss like a fish, soldier. Forgive my unfounded accusation.”

He suddenly laughs, looping his arms around my thighs to hold me in place. “My reputation is cleared?”

I shake my head, and he frowns.

“Why not?” he demands.

“I’ll take the truth to my grave. The very last thing the women at court need to know is how skilled you are. I’d have to beat them off you with a stick.”

“You exaggerate,” he says with an amused laugh.

“Hardly.”

When I lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips, he captures the back of my neck, holding me in place, kissing me until I’m cursing this dress and wishing I could be the woman Maisel believes me to be.

“Henrik,” Pranmore calls through the door, interrupting us before I can contemplate something stupid. “No one can find Clover. Have you seen her?”

Henrik and I part just enough to look into each other’s eyes. I bite my lip hard, and his shoulders shake with pent-up laughter.

Once he’s controlled himself, he clears his throat and says, “Are you certain she’s not in her room?”

“Clover,” Lawrence replies from the other side, sounding bored. “Audra wants to know if the dress fits.”

Henrik widens his eyes and shakes his head, but I give in.

“It’s too long.” I laugh as Henrik groans and presses his forehead against my shoulder. “And it’s a bit small.”

“I’ll let her know,” Lawrence answers. “If I were you, I’d get to your own room before Bartholomew catches you two. You’ll scar the poor boy for life.”