Had she truly imagined it, this moment when he stood behind her, his mother's dress unlaced, his hands the only stays she wore? When she'd found it, the gown was only the loveliest thing she'd seen, a thousand jay's feathers, the intimate gleam of the oyster's chamber. Demelza hadn't been able to resist stroking it, slipping it over her hips, the touch of the ruching against her breasts. Ross laid his fingers against her ribs, pressed his mouth against her neck like a noose's knot. He wanted the satin off her, she wasn't sure why. She found she didn't care.