Someday, she wants to feel MissPine’s perfect breasts bare in her hands.
MissPine’s delicate fingers trace along the back of her thigh, where shecancaress naked flesh, and Rosalie’s mind temporarily goes blank. Every nerve ending is alight. She’s full of want, and she feels lightheaded in the most swoony way, and she wants—
But they’re still in the sitting room. Anyone could walk in and find MissPine with her fingers—
Every single ounce of self-restraint goes into stilling Miss Pine’s hands as those wonderful fingers slip up up up toward—
“We can’t,” Rosalie rasps.
Miss Pine blinks up at her. Rosalie’s momentarily distracted by how nice it is to be looking down at her for once.
“Right, of course,” MissPine says quickly, pulling her hands back. She holds them up as if Rosalie’s a robber and Rosalie can’t help but laugh, falling into her.
MissPine giggles and wraps her arms more complacently around Rosalie’s back, so they’re simply resting there against each other, Rosalie slumped on top of MissPine, cradled in her lap.
And this is rather nice too. They can risk this pose for a few minutes, can’t they?
“Was it as good as you imagined?” MissPine asks softly.
Rosalie snorts. “So much better. And that’s not even everything we could do,” Rosalie hears herself say.
MissPine’s breath hitches and Rosalie feels heat spread up her chest, her neck, her cheeks. She didn’t mean to be quite so tawdry.
“I’d like that,” MissPine whispers, sending shivers down Rosalie’s spine.
She arches back to meet her eyes. “Yeah?”
“If you can come up with more ways to get us alone. I’d feel rather... queer about doing this somewhere in public.”
Rosalie laughs and reaches up to smooth the mess she’s made of her hair. “I’ll talk to Christopher.”
MissPine’s eyes widen. “Your brother knows?”
Rosalie nods. “Christopher was the one who came up with the idea to go to Blaise Castle. He wanted us to have time to talk. He told me that I should pursue you, MissPine.”
She watches in amusement as MissPine works through every implication. Her eyes zip this way and that, hand squeezing Rosalie’s. She could stare at her for hours.
“Catherine.”
“What?”
“My hands were— You ought to call me Catherine now, I should think,” she says, looking up at Rosalie with such sass that Rosalie can’t help but dip down to give her a quick, fierce kiss.
“All right,” she says, pulling back when they’re both breathless. “Then you drop theLady.”
“Gladly, just Rosalie.”
Something warm and tingly spreads through Rosalie’s chest. Oh, she’s so thoroughly done for.
“Your brother thinks you should pursue me?” Catherine asks.
Rosalie shrugs. “Apparently we’re not as subtle as we think we are, and he’s never been very happy with Mr.Dean.”
“But he thinks you should courtme?” Catherine insists.
“He thinks we should get to know each other, and he’s happy to help facilitate.Hecan ‘court’ you, I can chaperone, and he’ll make himself scarce.”
Catherine’s eyes light up, but she wrinkles her nose. “Not for this, I hope.”
