She arched into his hand and sighed. “What is that?”
“You captivate-by simply entering a room. You fascinate-with your unexpected facets. You enchant-with a single smile. You seduce-with nothing more than a look.”
“That’s four things,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“And you excel at all of them.”
She sifted her fingers through his hair then urged his head toward hers. “Kiss me,” she said, an impatient edge to her voice.
Biting back a smile, he allowed her to pull him closer. He brushed his lips over hers, then traced the fullness of her lower lip with his tongue. “You’re very demanding, you know.”
“I’ve decided it’s far more effective than being demur.”
He instantly recalled their first kiss and her impatient one word response: Again. “Were you ever demur?”
She leaned back and a look of confusion passed over her features. “I don’t know. I know I am expected to be. But tossing out demands-I like it. Before I started doing so, I was simply patted on the head and relegated to the corner like an ornamental object.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she leaned forward. “Again.”
“It would be my pleasure.” But even as his lips met hers and he pressed her back onto the mattress and covered her body with his, he knew that the pleasure they’d share in the days to come would leave him with the pain of a broken heart.
Nineteen
If Today’s Modern Woman is in a situation where she must choose between two or more gentlemen, she will likely find the practical nature of her mind at war with the emotional nature of her heart. In such cases she must ask herself, is it best to choose based on financial and social considerations or to follow the desires of her heart?
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Victoria hurried down the corridor toward her bedchamber, filled with a giddy, heady sense of anticipation. By previous agreement, Nathan had retired shortly after dinner, while she remained with Aunt Delia and Nathan’s father in the drawing for a quarter hour, after which time she, too, retired. But sleep was definitely not in her plans. Nathan… Had an entire week passed since that first night he’d come to her room? It seemed the time had gone by in a blink-time during which they’d been unsuccessful at locating the jewels, but had in every other way proven fulfilling beyond her wildest dreams.
Using the grid map Nathan had devised, they spent the days systematically inspecting each section, exploring dozens of rock outcroppings, searching in crevices and small caves, looking for a shape that resembled the picture she had drawn. As each square on the map was eliminated, Victoria’s hopes that they’d locate the missing cache faded a bit more. Further hindering their attempts, they’d as yet received no response from her father to Nathan’s letter, but given the distance to London, that was to be expected.
Nathan never strayed far from her side during their outings, always wary of them being set upon again. At his insistence, he’d hidden a small lady’s pistol for her protection in the tool bag containing their hammers and chisels. The fact that there were no further instances renewed their optimism that the brigand who’d stolen the fake note and map was indeed far away on a wild goose chase and had not deduced that he possessed erroneous information.
Those hours spent searching for the jewels were also hours together with Nathan. Laughing, learning, talking, discovering new facets of him and of herself. She brought him to the gardens and taught him to make a mud pie-then led him to a dark corner in the conservatory and had her wicked way with him. He brought her to the beach and taught her to make a sand castle-then led her to the crystal cave and had his wicked way with her. He took her for a ride on the lake in his small boat and taught her to row. She learned not only how to work the oars but that standing up in a rowboat is not wise if one wishes not to capsize. That directly led to her discovery that the temperature of a chilly lake is gloriously forgotten while making love in the water-and instantly recalled once the heat of passion is spent.
Nathan showed her how to catch crabs, kissed her finger when one pinched her with its claws, then applauded when she caught a dozen of the feisty crustaceans on her own. They’d proudly delivered their catch to Cook, who prepared them for dinner that night, a meal they shared with Aunt Delia and Nathan’s father, who, it was plain to see, were getting on extremely well together. For the past seven days, it had been just the four of them sharing meals and retiring to the drawing room after dinner. Nathan’s brother had not returned from his excursion to Penzance, sending a note that business required him to stay away, and Lord Alwyck had not made a return visit.
One morning, to her delight, Nathan brought her to the kitchen and helped her realize her childhood dream by having Cook teach her to bake a pie. She’d burned part of the crust, but Nathan ate it anyway, declaring it delicious. That evening after dinner, while her aunt and Lord Rutledge played backgammon, Nathan brought her to the billiards room and taught her to play-or rather, he tried to, as she proved quite hopeless at it, a fact she blamed on the distracting nature of her instructor. They then retired to the music room, where she attempted to teach him a song on the pianoforte. For a man with such talented fingers, he possessed no aptitude for music-but an amazing skill for insinuating his talented fingers under her skirt.
Yet even though she reveled in the sensual delights and discoveries they shared, she enjoyed his company just as much while doing nothing more exciting than drinking tea. What struck Victoria the most was the way he talked to her. Listened to her. How he sought her opinion on a wide spectrum of topics. How he didn’t make her feel foolish if she didn’t know something, and how intently he paid attention when she did. The gentle way he teased her, challenged her, encouraged her to think about things to which she’d previously given little consideration, such as politics.
He fascinated her with his personal theories on medicine and healing, a number of which were in direct opposition to currently accepted methods. They spent hours debating the works of Shakespeare and Chaucer, Byron’s poetry and Homer’s Iliad. It seemed that they grew closer every day, and she realized that in addition to being her lover, he was also her friend. A friend who could set her blood on fire with a mere look.
And then there were the seven glorious nights she’d spent in Nathan’s arms. Making love, exploring each other’s body, enjoying the countless intimacies lovers share. Sometimes their mating was a soft, slow dance, other times a fast, furious race. He helped her discover what pleased her and urged her to discover what pleased him, although as far as she could tell, he was very easily pleased. And now, hurrying the last few steps to her bedchamber, where she knew he awaited her, her heart skipped in anticipation of the sensual delights tonight would hold.
Breathless from a combination of her quick pace and the thought of what awaited her, she opened her bedchamber door. And stilled on the threshold at the sight that met her eyes. As if in a trance, she slowly entered. After closing and locking the door, she leaned back against the oak panel and stared. The room was awash with roses. Dozens of blooms ranging from the purest white to the deepest scarlet spilled from a silver bowl set on her dresser. A trail of petals led from the door to the center of the room, where the path split into two directions. One ended near the fireplace, where a petal-strewn blanket and a picnic basket awaited. The other trail veered toward the bed, its ivory counterpane dotted with crimson blooms. Nathan stood at the juncture of the paths holding a single long stem rose.