When he’d dragged his mouth along her jaw and then down her neck, he’d softened.
He’d fondled her.He tasted me.
It had made her want to taste him as well—to know the essence of his skin in every way imaginable.
Lydia frowned down at the large drop of ink that had plopped onto the parchment and then crumpled it in frustration and tossed it onto the floor.
She’d been exasperated with him one moment and clinging to him desperately the next. Remembering the feel of his body, all hard planes and muscles pressing into her, heat raced to her core.
This was useless. Lydia set down the pen and closed the jar of ink. Had he kissed her because he regretted sending her away last autumn?
Throwing herself onto her bed, she squeezed her thighs together at the same time she allowed one of her hands to edge over her belly, to just below her breast.
A knock sounded on the door, causing her to sit up guiltily.
“Come in!”
Clarissa peered around the door. “Mr. Hill sent me up.” Her friend looked elegant and sophisticated, wearing a puce linen day dress with a low waist and billowing long sleeves. As she entered the room, she removed her bonnet and then tossed it onto the bed.
“How is little Alexander?” Lydia touched her fingertips to her cheeks, hoping they weren’t flushed.
The young countess shrugged and waved a hand through the air. “He’s fine. That was just an excuse to leave you and Lord Tempest alone.” She dropped into the chair near Lydia’s vanity. “Tell me everything.”
Lydia shot her friend a disapproving glance but then sighed.
“Well?” Clarissa prompted her.
“He’s decided to invest, and he’s amenable to the plans we’ve had drawn up.”
“That’s not what I mean. Is there hope for him? Did the two of you discuss anything personal? Did he kiss you?”
Lydia bit her lip.
“He kissed you!”
“A thief attacked us on the street.” Lydia made an attempt to avoid discussing what had happened between her and Jeremy—seeing as she didn’t quite understand it herself.
Luckily, the diversion worked. “No!” her friend gasped.
“He was a child, Clarissa, the most precious boy you’ve ever seen.” Lydia went on to tell her all about Ollie, and the coat Jeremy gave him, and how he’d returned today, bruised and beaten. And about the gang boss, causing both of them to frown.
“Mason has warned me that there could be trouble. He and Lord Tempest may be forced to deal with the gang bosses early on. But what can we do about the boy until then?”
“Jeremy took Ollie home with him,” Lydia announced and then paused abruptly. He’d surprised her. And yet, it was precisely what the man she remembered would have done, the man Jeremy had been before his brother died.
Clarissa tilted her head in disbelief. “Your Lord Tempest? The same gentleman who had to be coerced into the project to begin with? He has opened his home up to an orphan?”
Lydia nodded. “He said his cook would put Ollie to work. And even though he says he’s only doing it to keep me from bringing Ollie home with me to Heart Place, I refuse to believe that’s his sole reason.” She held Clarissa’s gaze, almost afraid to appear too hopeful. “I could see it in his eyes, Clarissa. He could no more leave that child alone there than I could.”
“But when did this kiss happen?”
Lydia smoothed the fabric of her gown and then shrugged. “Just before Ollie came running in.”
“Was it… more than just a kiss?” Clarissa asked.
Lydia pinched her lips together, feigning innocence.
And obviously failing.
