“Are you ready to begin?” she asked a bit too brightly. “We’re already behind schedule, and I have much to do at home today.”
Those green eyes studied her for a moment. “Of course.” He offered a light bow. “I wouldn’t wish to keep you here any longer than necessary.”
Lady Marwood shot him a chiding glance but walked over to Fanny with a gentle expression. “I’ll send in Mrs. Thomas.” She took Conner from Fanny’s arms. “Let’s get you down for a nap, shall we?” she cooed to her son.
After they departed, the air around Jonathan and Fanny began to swirl with the same intensity that had been present outside. She abruptly turned away from him and walked over to the row of windows, intending to shut him out until Mrs. Thomas arrived. She stared out at the perfectly manicured lawn, but at a sharp flash of lightning, followed by a loud blast of thunder that nearly shook the very foundation of the manor, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.
“The storm is getting closer.”
Fanny hadn’t realized Jonathan had crossed the room, but now she could feel his heat seeping into her from behind as surely as if it washisarms that had caught her up in an embrace. “It is.”
“Do you not like the rain?” he asked softly.
She shook her head and opened her eyes.
“Why not?”
Fanny took a deep breath. She shouldn’t confide even this much of herself to him, considering he had made it abundantly clear that nothing would ever go further between them. But she found the words escaping from her lips. “When I was young, about five or six, my mother and I went into the village to take some soup to an elderly lady who was ill.”
She swallowed, the memory of that day still frightening, even though she was old enough to put such childish fears aside. “On the way back, we got caught in a torrential downpour. Not only were we drenched, but lightning struck a tree, causing it to burst into flame and fall in our path. It narrowly missed us.” She rubbed her arms, feeling that terrible disquiet once again. “I’ve been scared of them ever since.”
A gentle hand settled on her arm, as Lord Castleford turned her to face him. “Then perhaps I can help you forget.”
She didn’t even have time to refuse before his head descended and he brushed her mouth with his.
It was a light kiss, but the desire was instant. Just as the lightning had lit a flame to that tree so long ago, the spark of pleasure from Lord Castleford’s kiss shot all the way to Fanny’s toes, causing them to curl in her slippers. It was like everything she’d dreamed about — only so much more.
As if she had no control over her actions, her hands lifted and she grasped the lapels of his jacket. In reply, he gave a sensual growl, and then grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. Pressed so close, she could feel every hard plane of his body. His heart beat in time with hers and the proof of his arousal pressed urgently against her midsection. The first, fat drops of rain splattered the glass, but Fanny was oblivious to the storm outside, as the one going on inside was much more intense.
When his hand moved from her waist to brush against the underside of her breast, his thumb brushing her erect nipple through her stays, her breath hitched and she moaned lightly. She ought to push him away, but it felt sogood...
“Sorry I’m late!”
Jonathan instantly released Fanny, spinning away from her with a muttered curse. Disoriented, Fanny reached out and grasped the windowsill in an effort to remain upright. Luckily, the housekeeper was too harried to take any notice of their state of dishabille. She took her place at the piano, and only after she was settled did she glance up and say brightly, “Shall I begin with the waltz today, my lord?”
Jonathan clenched his jaw for a moment before he said evenly, “I think just a few country dances today, Mrs. Thomas.”
The older woman nodded and began to riffle through the sheet music. He finally turned to Fanny and held a hand out to her. While he might appear unruffled on the outside, she noted the tight lines bracketing his mouth and the sensuous glitter in his eyes that suggested otherwise.
She swallowed tightly as she set her trembling hand in his.
God give her strength to make it through the day.
***
FOR THE NEXT THREEdays, Jonathan treated Fanny with the utmost politeness when she arrived and continued the same civility all throughout their lessons. He was the epitome of the perfect gentleman.
He hated every minute of it.
It was difficult to act as though nothing untoward had happened between them when he felt as though everything had changed. A mere sample of Miss Grouseman’s delights had only aroused his appetite for more. He dreamed of her every night, waking with the sheets twisted around him, his breathing heavy, and an aching in his groin that had him clenching his fists.
But it was when she appeared in person that the true struggle for self-control began.
Every time she walked into the ballroom, her presence chipped away at his restraint. When he held her in his arms for the waltz, all he could think about was dragging her into the nearest room and having his wicked way with her. He was starting to wonder if he wasn’t slowly descending into madness. Either that or the fortune teller wasn’t the only one who had bewitched his mind.
Fanny walked into the ballroom this morning, and Jonathan nearly groaned aloud. It was as if she were tormenting him on purpose. She wore her hair in the usual chignon that he detested, for he wanted nothing more than to see that dark hair down about her shoulders — and preferably spread across his sheets — but instead of the usual serviceable brown or gray dress, today she had donned a lovely pale yellow that accented her dark eyes and that delectable creamy skin. The high waist hugged her breasts perfectly and the lower cut neckline teased him with the slight crease between the swells.
As his gaze fixed on that spot, Jonathan was quite sure he’d just slipped into the seventh circle of hell. “Good day, Miss Grouseman.”Dear God, did my voice just break?He cleared his throat and asked brusquely, “Shall we begin?”
