She very much liked having her arm wrapped around Mr. Sommersby’s. She liked even more the way he would shift his body slightly to protect her if it appeared that anyone with too much drink in him might stagger into her. His movements were subtle, but she noted them all the same. Although it seemed she noted the smallest of things about him. His alertness and the way his head swiveled as though he were constantly watching for any sign of danger. His hands fisting as she’d spoken with the Fire King as though he were jealous. The subtle way he removed coins from his pocket and handed one at a time off to the barefoot children they passed. So many coins, leading her to believe it was a habit he engaged in when he wandered through the poorer sections of London. He’d known what to expect here, and he’d come prepared.
It was chaotic in this area tonight. Food carts. Drink carts. Shell games. A sword swallower. A few small tents rested along the walls. Inside were all manner of things to be seen for a penny. A female contortionist advertised as being a human puzzle box. “It’s impossible to tell where she starts and where she ends!” the barker shouted.
But Fancy was drawn to the rotund man with the balding pate shouting about debauchery and wickedness. “Come one, come all to decadence in all its glory!” Then he caught her eye and began waving her over with exaggerated sweeps of his arm. “Come, lady. Come and behold what your eyes have never seen!”
“What do you suppose that’s about?” Fancy asked Mr. Sommersby.
“If it’s something you’ve never seen then it’s probably something you shouldn’t see.”
His words only served to ignite her curiosity more. “I’m going to have a look.”
“Miss Trewlove, I’m not certain that’s wise.”
“It’s not as though I’m swallowing fire. You can come with me if you like.”
Boldly, she approached the gent and handed him a penny. With a flourish he held back the tent flap, and she was a bit relieved when Mr. Sommersby followed her inside the confining space. A lit lantern rested beside a stereoscope on a small table. She glanced around. “Do you believe that’s it?”
“Appears so. I’ll have a look—”
“No, I’m going first.” Taking a deep breath, she picked up the stereoscope and peered through the two glass circles at the image that seemed almost real enough to touch. She was very much aware of Mr. Sommersby’s chest brushing up against her shoulder blade, and that touch was no doubt responsible for the heat cascading through her—not the disappointing photograph at which she was looking.
“Well?” His voice was a rasp near her ear, his warm breath skimming along her cheek.
“It’s a woman... lounging on a settee... in her unmentionables.” Except they were barely on. The swell of one breast was clearly visible, her nipple hidden, although it appeared the cloth was in danger of slipping away completely.
“My turn.”
“Absolutely not.” She jerked the contraption away from her eyes and hugged it to her midsection. “You don’t need to view a woman in her disarray.”
He’d not moved, was still incredibly close. “I’ve seen women in their unmentionables, Miss Trewlove. In fact, I have taken great pleasure in removing said unmentionables.”
His voice had gone deeper, lower, to a depth where secrets were best shared, and she quite suddenly found it difficult to breathe, imagining his finger gliding along lace and slipping silk down, down, down until nothing was covered. She was trembling with desire as the images bombarded her. “It’s not fair.”
“Pardon?”
She glanced back at him, not having to look far, realizing his mouth was now incredibly close to hers. The heat, the desire, the yearning increased. It was wrong, so wrong, not at all proper. “Where’s the photograph of a man in his smalls?”
His eyes grew large. “You want to see a man in his smalls?”
“Why not? The barker claimed I’d see what I’d never beheld. I’ve seen myself in my unmentionables, standing before the cheval glass.” When his eyes darkened, and his gaze intensified as though he was now having the improper thoughts that his earlier words had elicited within her, she suddenly had a need to torture him as much as he had her. “In fact, I have seen myself in nothing at all.”
He went still, so very still, as though he might shatter if he moved. His eyes smoldered to such a degree, she thought she might very well ignite. She wasn’t particularly learned when it came to men but had no doubt that she was witnessing the birth of desire. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Trewlove.”
“Am I?”
Slowly, he lowered his head, not to her mouth as she’d expected, but to her neck, just below her ear where the skin was more sensitive than she’d ever realized. He kissed, nipped, stroked his tongue over the delicate flesh, and the incredible sensations traveled clear down to her toes. When he took her lobe between his teeth, she nearly cried out from the pleasure of it. Her knees weakened. The stereoscope slipped from her hands and fell to the ground. She didn’t care, didn’t care about anything other than the journey of his mouth along the underside of her jaw. All the din and commotion outside fell away. All she heard was his breathing and low moans.
When he pulled away, she nearly begged him to come back. “You’re the one playing a dangerous game.” She did wish she hadn’t sounded breathless, had given the impression of being more in control.
His grin was devilishly wicked. “But I understand the rules. Don’t think for a moment I’m not tempted to set you on that table and take you here and now. But I would ruin you for anyone else.”
Ruin me.Had she really just had that thought?
“I don’t think you’re ready to pay that price,” he continued.
She was not going to be disappointed he was a gentleman and not a scoundrel. He had the right of things. Being ruined would not fit at all into her plans. Although she had the impression that he wasn’t referring to ruining her precisely but rather that she would never find with any other man the satisfaction she would find with him. She might label him as arrogant if she wasn’t convinced that he was no doubt speaking the truth.
Seeming to comprehend that she had no witty response to his claims, he bent down, picked up the stereoscope, and placed it back on the table.
