Pride and Pleasure (Historical #3)
Pride and Pleasure (Historical #3) Page 22
Pride and Pleasure (Historical #3) Page 22
“There was so much left unsaid between them. Their infatuation brought them together, but it wasn’t strong enough to bear the weight of their façades. They quarreled often and said unkind things. Eventually, apologies were no longer enough to mend the rift between them. How could they be, when they continued to repeat the mistakes they apologized for?” Her fingertips drifted across his firm lips. “If only they’d been honest about themselves and what they needed. Perhaps they could have made each other happy.”
“The moment you walked away from me last night, I regretted my brusqueness. I considered climbing through your bedroom window just to reassure myself that you would still receive me.”
“Would you have revealed the truth to me then?”
Jasper offered a rueful smile. “I doubt it. Surely, the convenience of finding you in bed would have distracted me.”
“How swiftly you tell the truth when it’s not tied to your past.”
He urged her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then, he walked away and spoke over his shoulder. “Pull the pins from your hair. I’ll speak for as long as it takes you to let it down completely.”
“What game is this?”
“I intend to learn how to dance with you. We cannot have every lesson delayed by interruptions, despite how pressing they might be. We need a way to measure the time spent.”
“Your pocket watch will not suffice?”
“That isn’t nearly as fun.”
Reaching up with both hands, she obliged. Slowly. Pulling out one pin and carefully lowering her arm to drop it on the floor.
He gave an approving nod, then began to follow the length of the wall. “There are some individuals who lack empathy for others. They are unable to create or sustain emotional connections, and their vision of the world is limited to their own viewpoints.”
“My stepfather was such a person. Chilcott was entirely self-absorbed.”
Jasper’s voice rose to compensate for the growing distance between them. “In addition to that defect of character, Montague is also cursed with aberrant sexual appetites.”
Eliza paused in the act of withdrawing another pin. “How do you know this?”
“I have crossed paths with women who’ve had the misfortune of catching his eye. He prefers unwilling partners and the infliction of pain. My understanding is he cannot perform otherwise.”
“Unwilling…” Her stomach turned at the thought of being forced to share the intimacies of sexual congress with someone who was cruel and malicious. “How does one acquire such deviant tastes?”
“Through the blood, perhaps? Or a defect of the soul.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”
Her hands fell to her sides. She walked toward him with her hair loosened and threatening to fall around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? How could you keep such things from me?”
“When could I have told you?”
“Don’t be coy!”
He altered direction to meet her halfway, his booted steps more silent than her slippered ones. “I would give up a great many things to spare you such sordidness. I knew you were decided against marriage, which made the possibility of your ever learning of Lord Montague’s activities very slim indeed.”
“I would not have met with him yesterday if I’d known!” As she reached him, her hands went to her hips. “And you and I would not have quarreled.”
“I also feared what would happen if he discovered you knew of his darker nature. Your face is so expressive. You will not be able to hide your condemnation, and he’s a desperate man. His good name is all he has left. He cannot afford to have it sullied by gossip.”
Although she didn’t approve of his methods, she hadn’t the heart to argue about his reasoning. He wanted to protect her in every respect. “Do you think he’s the one who has been plaguing me?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Jasper beckoned her closer with a crook of his finger. “He is teetering on the verge of utter ruination. He’s gambled away or sold every non-entailed property, and he does not have the means to support the holdings he has left. His debts are such that he’s being denied credit. Soon, he will have nowhere to turn.”
“And yet you’re considering investing with him?” Eliza stepped into his open arms. “What are you thinking?”
He set his chin atop her head. “I want him ruined. I cannot allow him to find a means of salvation. If feigning interest is required to glean the information I need to thwart him, it’s a small price to pay.”
His tone was so vitriolic, it didn’t sound like Jasper at all. Eliza leaned back to study his features. “Why?”
“Retribution for a…friend.”
Jealousy stung her. “A lover?”
“No.” His hands stroked the length of her spine. “Before you there was sex. You have been my only lover.”
Her fingers straightened his already immaculate cravat. “Will I always be?”
“Are you asking if I’ll be steadfast? Of course.”
“You answer so easily.”
His beautiful mouth curved with amusement. “As if I practiced my response for just such a question? And here I thought we’d established I have yet to tell you a falsehood.”
Eliza looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I find the thought of another woman enjoying you as I have to be extremely vexing.”
“Vexing,” he repeated, grinning.
“Intolerable,” she amended.
“We certainly cannot have you vexed. Therefore, I must be faithful.”
Unsatisfied by his response, she goaded him. “I shall follow your lead in this aspect of our association, as I have in everything else.”
“Why, Miss Martin,” he drawled. “I do believe that was a threat.”
Her gaze dropped to where her fingers lay against white linen. “Only if you stray.”
He laughed. Picking her up, he spun her around.
“Jasper!” Wide-eyed, she looked into his face. Something in his expression flushed her skin.
“You delight me.” His voice was slightly husky.
“You confound me. And charm me.”
“And arouse you.”
“Too easily.” She ran her hands through his hair, unable to resist its thick silky texture.
“I want you even when we’re not together. Can you say the same?”
“Yes, in the moments when I’m not questioning myself for jumping into a situation with my eyes closed.”
Jasper set her down and touched her falling hair with reverent fingers. “Your mind wants to make sense of what you feel. I’ve forsaken any effort to understand it, but you will not. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. Just promise me that when you have doubts or concerns, you’ll come to me as you did today. Tell me what you need, and I will find a way to give it to you.”
Eliza believed him. He made her feel as if she was important to him. Necessary. She’d never been necessary to anyone before. It was a novel feeling, one she was still attempting to assimilate.
“What I need,” she began, catching his hand in hers and setting her left hand on his shoulder, “is for you to learn how to waltz. I want to dance with you.”
He positioned his hand at her waist. “From the very first, you listed dancing as a requirement in your suitors.”
“I’ll enjoy dancing with you best of all.” Eliza smiled. “You have that air of danger about you, and a very seductive way of moving. The inherent sensuality of the waltz was made for a man such as you.”
His smile made her pulse race. “I want to commission a new gown for you to wear during our first public waltz. Will you wear it?”
Pleased by the thought of a gift, she nodded. It had been a long time since someone who cared for her bought her a present. Melville rarely knew what day of the week it was; special occasions were beyond him.
“I cannot wait,” he purred, his spine straightening beautifully. “Teach me quickly.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Her tone changed, became more clipped and direct. “There are nine positions in the German waltz. However, we must start with a rule: this precise distance between us should always be maintained.”
“You’re too far away,” he complained, shooting a pointed glance down at the floor between them.
“Stuff. The waltz is the only dance in which pairs are set apart from the assemblage and focused on each other. There is no way to be more intimate.”
“Without a bed.”
Eliza bit back an indulgent smile. Certainly she shouldn’t encourage his roguish tendencies, but she adored them. He was unlike any man she knew—wicked in all the best ways.
“Pay attention,” she said sternly. “Your feet should be turned outward when stepping”—she demonstrated—“and the lift of your leg should be pronounced.”
Although he continued to make provocative statements, Eliza remained focused. She walked him carefully through the steps. At first, he seemed almost afraid to move. When she pointed it out, he groused, “Damned if I’ll trample you.”
But he soon learned to appreciate her responsiveness. He became more confident and sure-footed. The steps became more natural, his arm movements accomplished with more flourish. She praised him when his form was perfect, and teased him when it wasn’t.
As time passed and they continued their exertions, his scent of spice and bergamot filled the air between them. The advance and retreat of the steps became foreplay to her. The twisting movements limbered her, while the too-brief moments of proximity began to titillate her senses. His powerful shoulder flexed beneath her hand, reminding her of how delicious he was when naked and passionate and aroused. Her breathing quickened.
Jasper watched her with an enigmatic smile. “I like this.”
“The dance?”
“The way you follow my lead. The feel of your body moving in just the way I want, with only the slightest urging.”
“You like being in control.”
Jasper paused mid cross step. Their faces were turned toward one another, their lips only inches apart. “And you like me in control.”
“Perhaps”—she lowered her gaze to his lips—“being out of control is my aim.”
His hand tightened on her waist. “Are you propositioning me, Miss Martin?”
“What would you do if I did?”
“Anything you want.”
He sidestepped, so that their bodies were aligned. Face-to-face. Jasper was such a large, strong man. She felt so delicate when she was with him, yet never overpowered.
“You know what I want,” she whispered, blushing.
“A kiss?” He gently pulled another pin from her hair. “An embrace?”
“More.”
“How much more?”
She bit her lower lip.
Jasper caught her chin. “Shyness has no place between us.”
“I don’t want to be…overbold.”
“Sweetheart.” His tone was soft and warm. “Can you still be unaware of how I relish your esteem and desire? Haven’t I told you how deeply they please me and how much satisfaction I derive from them?”
“As if I’m the only woman to admire you,” Eliza said wryly.
“You’re the only woman whose admiration has value to me.”
“Why? There’s nothing special about me. Whatever pleasing traits I possess are better represented in other females.”
“Not in the combination with which you are blessed.” His hand drifted from her jawline and closed around her breast. He studied her reaction as his thumb circled a highly sensitive nipple. “I love that you are beautiful and clever and carry a constant desire for me. You could not be more perfect.”
Her body responded instantly to his expert touch—her nipples tightened into aching points and the flesh between her legs throbbed with need.
“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, anchoring her with a hand at her hip. With two fingers, he rolled and tugged the erect point of her breast, the pressure too light to offer any relief.
She felt pliable and wanton. Intoxicated. They’d been alone for an hour, only inches apart; his body had been in motion the entire time. Watching him move was a seduction in and of itself. She couldn’t keep herself from wanting him. Her infatuation was far too great to be moderated.
“I want you naked,” she breathed.
A soft rumbling came from his chest, sounding suspiciously like a purr. “Why?”
Her hands moved of their own volition, catching the lapels of his coat. “Take this off.”
His wicked smile made her toes curl. He shrugged out of the expensive garment and let it fall to the floor. “Better?”
“Not nearly.” She caressed his arms through his shirtsleeves. Looking behind him at the mirror on the opposite wall, she drank in the view of his buttocks and thighs. The sight, smell, and feel of him were all aphrodisiacs to her.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You surprise me in all the best ways. Should I hang a mirror above our bed?”
“Jasper…” A shiver of mortified delight moved through her. “I would never be able to look.”
“I think you won’t be able to look away. Shall we prove it?”
Eliza stilled. “Here?”
“Would Melville disturb us?”
She shook her head. “How…?”
Her mind rushed forward, planning how they could manage a coupling without a bed.
“Your nipples are so pretty,” he murmured, drawing her attention to her bodice. She was shamelessly, visibly aroused. “So tiny and petite.”
He stayed her when she moved to cover herself. “Unfair for you to hide when I cannot.”
She followed the gesturing sweep of his hand and found the bold outline of his erection straining the placket of his breeches. A soft sound of yearning escaped her. She wished for nothing more than to be naked with him, his powerful body flexing and working atop hers, his long thick penis pushing deep into her. Despite her lingering soreness, the lure of orgasm was too potent to be denied.
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