“I should hope that these conversations at least took place privately.”
She snorted. “They took place at the breakfast table, or the dinner table, with his family seated with us. My humiliation was on view for all.”
Demetrius could not understand why her husband had not visited her bed more often, or why he had such an aversion to touching. Further, whether he liked her or not, a marquess needs an heir.
But the most baffling was that Lavinia was beautiful and enticing, and Demetrius had wanted her since the moment he first saw her, yet her husband…He did not know what to think.
Chapter
Sixteen
She had feared what Demetrius might think after she told him the truth but when he appeared more flummoxed than anything, the disquiet eased. Besides, it was her husband’s failing and not hers.
“It was not just passion that I believe to be a myth, but pleasure as well,” she offered. She might as well tell him everything since she’d already shared what she had once considered her deepest humiliation—a husband who had to be drunk to touch her. “When my friends suggested that I take a lover, like my sister, I was not truly thinking of passion, like Octavia, but simply pleasure because I could not understand how such could occur, and I suppose that I still do not.” She offered a shrug. “Perhaps the fault lies in me.”
“I can promise you that it does not.”
“You cannot know that for everyone,” she argued. What if there was something wrong with her?
“Did you not enjoy my kiss?”
Her face heated. “Very much so.”
He set his brandy aside then stood.
Was he leaving?
Instead, Demetrius walked to the entry of the parlor and closed the doors and then returned to her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I am about to show you pleasure.”
“Now?” Wasn’t a bedroom required?
“Yes.”
“You do not need to.” Why was she panicked suddenly. Wasn’t this what she was curious about? Didn’t she want to know for certain?
“Simple pleasure, Lavinia. For you. Only you.”
She frowned. “I do not understand. Does a man not need pleasure as well?”
“In time.” His eyes darkened as he prowled toward the settee, much like a cat on the hunt. She should be frightened, alarmed, but instead, a thrill of anticipation swept through her body.
Demetrius sat beside her then took the glass of brandy from her hand and placed it on the table.
“I am going to kiss you now.”
She simply nodded and fought the panic to run. She did want this and by the end of the night she would know if what Octavia and Blythe claimed was true.
He placed his palm against her cheek and the corner of his mouth tipped.
“I can leave,” he offered. “I fear that I have frightened you.”
“Yes…no…”
“Maybe one question at a time.” He chuckled. “Would you like me to leave?”
