“I never claimed to be a gentleman. Quite the opposite in fact, Miss Wainwright.” He leaned forward and cupped her cheek in his palm and a quiver of excruciating awareness trekked like a lightning bolt from the base of Jess’s spine to the tips of her toes. “In fact,” he murmured, as his fingers grazed her ear, “My touch would have spread nothin’ but coal dust across your face ten years ago.”
He moved his hand slowly down her neck, and toyed with the button at her collar. “So prim and proper and wrapped up tight,” he muttered underneath his breath, and slid the tip of his finger between fabric and skin. He lightly stroked her collarbone and his touch was a white-hot flame.
“Your cheek would bear the stain of my ungentlemanly hands,” he rubbed his knuckle over the button and feathered that diabolical finger over her heart. “Your white shirt would bear the mark of my hand - no matter how diligently you applied yourself to the launderin’ of it.”
His voice was raw, and she could hear the yearning in it. Jess clenched her fists and hoped he couldn’t feel how she trembled at his touch.
“Remove your hand from my personage,” she demanded as she tugged his roaming fingers away from her bodice. She couldn’t afford to let him crawl beneath her defenses.
He winked and stepped back. “I’m fairly certain I never outlined the terms of our bargain, Miss Wainwright. What leads you to believe your mere appearance is sufficient enticement?”
“I’ve already explained I am not here to accept your bargain.”
He strode toward the window and when he pushed aside the heavy drapery to lean against it, she tried to ignore the way the sunlight caught the glints in his dark hair, so they looked like a star-strewn deep blue sky. From where she was standing she could see strands of white at his temples, like moonlight.
“What if I made the wager a scientific experiment?”
“It depends on what kind of experiment. Is it a legitimate one or something you’re devising to make me even more uncomfortable?”
“For every kiss you allow me to take, and remain unmoved by, I’ll return a piece of your microscope to your keeping.”
Jess was skeptical. “I only have to endure your advances and you’ll give it back to me.”
He nodded. “One piece at a time.”
Letting him exercise his charms might be her only option and Jess was confident she could resist him. Perhaps she could make her resistance its own experiment. It was simply a matter of letting her mind, rather than the animal instincts he aroused, control her reactions. Objectively, she knew a black heart beat in his chest - as black as the coal from whence he came. His heart was probably exactly that - a black lump of coal. She would use that knowledge to reinforce her resistance.
“I’ll agree to your absurd experiment.” She steeled herself for his gloating response.
“I think you need time to mull it over.”
His reply wasn’t the one she’d been bracing herself for.
“You don’t even possess the courtesy to start now?” She wasn’t prepared for his reluctance. She wanted to get it over with. Prolonged exposure to Cadoc Morgan would weaken her defenses. Like the steady erosion of water over stone.
“No. I’ll let you preserve your dignity a while longer. I’m in no hurry and you informed me that you didn’t actually need the microscope in the classroom until spring. We’ve barely begun to feel the first sting of winter.”
“What if I mull over your proposal and change my mind about accepting it?”
He shrugged. “Then you change your mind. And lose all hope of getting your microscope back.”
“And let you win.” Jess wanted to ball up her fist and set it against the irritating corner of his smirk.
“Madam, I win either way,” he told her as he crossed his arms and studied her from his perch in the window alcove.
“And I lose either way. You are forcing me to choose between my virtue and my vocation.” The rage simmered in her veins. He was rendering her impotent - when she craved control and independence above all else.
“Do you have an alternative proposal?” He was far too cavalier and nonchalant about the entire situation.
“My sister said I should tell you I need the microscope for my own use - not just for the schoolroom.”
“Tell me then, Miss Wainwright.”
“For the last five years, I’ve made an observation of dragonflies in their natural habitat. Their behavior signals the health of a pond, and when they proliferate, it bodes well. When their population dwindles, or the larvae don’t survive to adulthood, it’s a harbinger of changes in the environment that demand attention. I want to publish my hypotheses and include drawings of the various species I’ve found.”
“Why is your microscope necessary for that?”
“I want my drawings to be accurate.”
