My stomach gave a pleased flip.
There was something lovely about the sight of her small, well-manicured fingers separated by my blunt ones. My nail beds were perpetually stained with ink, and they stood in contrast with her immaculate ones.
Summoning my bravery, I asked, “What else is involved? With the flirting? I want to be sure to do it properly.”
It occurred to me in that moment that I’d never really bothered with flirting. When I mether, I was too young, too naive, and too much of a dolt to attempt it. And when I foundheragain… well, there was no point in flirting.
It wasn’t even an atrophied muscle, my attempted flirtation; it was one I’d never used at all. For the first time I wished I had exercised it.
“That was an excellent start,” she offered. “I am especially vain and susceptible to compliments. Perhaps you should try there.”
“Oh, but I should like to tread new ground. You are so lovely, I doubt there is a compliment in existence that you have notreceived already.” The praise spilled out so easily, so naturally, that it required no thought at all.
“Well done, you!”
I had intended it as fact, not flirtation, but she was pleased with my success.
“I appreciate the effort. Shall I speak plainly and stop this torturous assignment?”
“Yes, please.”
Her laugh was genuine and unaffected. “Very well. I hope you do not think too poorly of me after I have finished. Where to begin… I am a widow, one who has been more than two years without a… companion. Tonight, I am feeling especially lonesome. You are particularly handsome. And there’s something about a masquerade… So, if you’d like, I can return inside, leave you to your hedgerow skulk?—”
“Don’t!”
She smiled, satisfied with my outburst. “We could also continue our lessons in the art of flirtation. Or—and this is my preference—we can determine if our interest is mutual and something more than intellectual.”
She could not possibly mean…
“It is. Mutual I mean.” She pressed herself off the railing, leaving my hand bereft of her warmth.
I did not have long to mourn its absence before that same hand cupped my jaw, drawing me down to her.
“Well then. I suppose all that is left is to see if this is a purely scholarly attraction.”
The hand cupping my jaw held me steady as she shifted to her toes. Too afraid to move, to shatter this illusion, I waited as she closed the distance. My eyes fluttered shut as her impossibly soft lips met mine. Pressing once, twice before she tilted my jaw to suit her needs and settled into the kiss with the quietest of moans.
Blood rushed through my ears, throbbing with my pounding heart. A second, perhaps two passed without comprehension. Then the reality of the situation came into sharp focus. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen was kissing me.
And I was disappointing her.
Frantic to prove myself, my hand moved to her waist of its own volition and instinct took over. My free hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Not close enough. The one on her waist tugged too.
Finally, I had all of her, every beautiful inch, pressed against me. Soft curves found a home, purchase, against my chest. Lips parted, breath mingled, and tongues danced, and I wantedmore. More of this. More of her.
More of everything.
Five
WAYLAND’S, LONDON - JUNE 5, 1816
CELINE
I had never been devouredbefore, kissed with the single-minded determination this man possessed. He kissed with his whole body, with his entire soul.
It was nothing like the simple press of lips I had intended. I had never, ever been so thrilled to be wrong. There was a clumsy eagerness to his movements that revealed his inexperience, but I could not bring myself to care. The lack of finesse was charming, flattering, arousing. What could this man do with a bed and a direction or two?
Gabriel had always kissed me with intent. He had a purpose to make me feel loved, desired, teased, desperate for him. I adored every single kiss. Even now, I guarded their memory like precious gems, taking them out one by one to admire as needed.
