“Not at all. With three weeks at your disposal, you would have had sufficient time to send an order to a London bookstore and have had a copy delivered to you here. If you’d been so inclined.”
“Ah. But now that I only have a week-”
“I fear that is no longer a viable option,” she said, injecting just the right note of regret in her voice. However, her conscience made her ask, “If you still had the three weeks’ time, would you have sent an order to London?”
“No.”
It was all Catherine could do to keep her lips from curving into a triumphant smile. Perfect. He’d swallowed her bait without a hitch. Now all she had to do was reel him in.
“I thought not,” she said, keeping her expression serious, “which means that-”
“Our wager is void.” He nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
She stared at him. “Void? That is not what I was going to say at all.”
“Oh? What were you going to say?”
“That I was the winner.”
His brows shot upward, and he folded his arms across his chest. “How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
“You just admitted that you would not have made arrangements to secure a copy of A Ladies’ Guide from London, regardless of the length of your stay in Little Longstone. You will recall that in order for you to win the wager, you had to read the Guide, then engage in a discussion about it, which you cannot do if you do not have a copy, which you cannot secure without making special arrangements, which by your own admission you’ve no plan to do, which, even if you did plan to do, you no longer have the time to do.” She finished her speech with a flourishing wave of her hand and sucked in a much-needed breath. Then she offered him her sweetest smile. “Therefore, that means I am the winner.”
He remained silent for several seconds, studying her with a slightly bemused expression that delighted her. Excellent. She’d obviously thrown him off-balance. Her strategy was working brilliantly. Now for the final step…
“Do you concede?” she asked.
“It would appear I have little choice.”
Her heart leapt in anticipation. “As I’m sure you recall, the winner is entitled to a boon of their choosing.”
“Ah, yes. Now that you mention it, I do recall that.” He chuckled. “So that is why you wanted me to concede rather than call our wager void. I suppose I’ll be spending tomorrow polishing the silver.”
She took one step closer to him. “No.”
“Weeding the roses?”
Another step closer. “No.”
“Mucking out the stalls?”
Another step. Now only an arm’s length separated them. Her heart was beating so hard she felt the pounding in her ears. “No.”
His watchful gaze held hers for what felt like an eternity, but was surely no more than ten seconds. Finally, he said in a husky voice, “Then perhaps you should tell me what you do want, Catherine.”
Carpe diem, her inner voice prodded. Summoning all her courage, Catherine took one more step forward. Her body brushed against his, and his masculine scent filled her head. Encouraged by his sharp intake of breath, she placed her palms against his chest and looked directly into his eyes.
“I want you to make love to me.”
Chapter 14
Today’s Modern Woman should strive to gain a level of sexual expertise. The woman who is well-versed in the delights of the bedchamber can be confident that her lover will not lose interest and seek companionship elsewhere.
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Andrew remained perfectly still, allowing his mind and body to absorb fully the stunning impact of her words and actions. Catherine standing before him, desire shimmering in her eyes, her hands splayed against his chest, her lush body leaning against his. The smoky timbre of her voice when she whispered that heart-stopping sentence. I want you to make love to me.
For as many times as he’d fantasized about her saying those words, nothing prepared him for the reality. His heart slapped so hard against his ribs, it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d said, what on earth is that drumming sound?
Yet, beneath the layers of elation, desire, want, and need, flickered a single, tiny candle of discontent. Yes, he desperately wanted to make love to her, but he wanted a great deal more than that. Given her aversion to marriage, and her belief in the precepts put forth in A Ladies’ Guide, one of which encouraged “women of a certain age” not to remain celibate, she clearly only wanted an affair. If he refused her, would she turn to someone else? The mere thought of her asking another man to make love to her clenched his jaw.
Not that he had any intention of refusing her.
She shifted against him, and his entire body tightened. Yes, he wanted much more from her, but for now, this was enough.
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and he realized that he’d remained silent too long. That she thought his silence meant he planned to refuse her. Words and feelings he’d suppressed for what felt like an eternity welled up, clogging his throat, rendering him unable to speak. But it mattered not as he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence. Only one word echoed through his mind, a mantra of all he wanted. All he’d ever wanted from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Catherine. Catherine. Catherine.
She clearly read the inferno of desire he knew burned in his gaze because the uncertainty vanished from her eyes, and her lips parted. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he drew her fully against him while he ran his other hand up her back until his fingers sifted into her soft, upswept hair. He lowered his head as she rose up on her toes.
The instant their lips met, he was lost. In the sweet seductive taste of her. In the incredible feel of her pressing against him. In the delicate floral scent of her. The delicious friction of her tongue rubbing against his. The erotic sound of her moan of pleasure.
Needs and wants that had gone unanswered, unfulfilled for so long, clawed him like sharp talons. Spreading his legs, he gathered her closer, pressing her into the V between his thighs. His erection strained against his tight breeches, and he cursed the barrier of the clothing between them. Another low moan rumbled in her throat, and she rubbed herself against him, stripping away another layer of his rapidly vanishing control.
While his lips and tongue explored all the velvety delights of her mouth, one of his hands came forward to palm her breast while his other hand slid down her back to cup her rounded bottom. She gasped, and her head fell limply back, presenting him with the delicate, vulnerable curve of her neck, a delicacy he instantly took advantage of.
Catherine strained closer, thrilling to the feel of his hard, aroused body. Closing her eyes, she clutched his broad shoulders in an effort to remain upright against the storm of sensations battering her. His lips and tongue blazed a trail of fire down her neck, fanning the flames already burning her. One strong hand kneaded her breast through the material of her gown, tightening her nipple and shooting shards of sharp want down to her womb, while his other hand massaged her buttocks with a slow, hypnotic motion that forced a long, need-filled moan from her throat. The feminine flesh between her legs felt swollen and heavy and moist, and a mounting desperation edged through her.
He lifted his head, and a groan of protest vibrated in her throat.
“Not here,” he whispered, his breathing as ragged as hers. “Not like this.”