He rolled his eyes and uttered an infuriatingly cool “We’ll see.”
Lucretia let out a tight sigh. This conversation had started so well, and she’d ruined it with one word. Besides, it wasn’t even a real issue; the voyage was only hypothetical at this stage. Marcus seemed to be enjoying spending time with Felix, and he’d been excited at the prospect of a voyage. She’d been too quick to quash him, driven by her own fears rather than any rational risk.
“I will consider it,” she conceded. “IfFelix should actually invite you to join him one day.”
He ignored her capitulation, reaching across the table to load his plate up once more.
Chapter 21
Since it seemed Marcus was not suffering from the arrangement, Lucretia sent a messenger to Felix to arrange a date a few days later. In the intervening days, her mind ran rampant with all of the things she could teach him. Playing this role with him thrilled her. She had never thought of herself as much of a temptress, her experience being confined to the marital bed, but somehow Felix made her feel as powerful as a siren.
She arrived at Felix’s house in late afternoon on their appointed day, and joined him in the stylish, understated dining room. Once again, the table was laid with an obscene variety of foods. “You needn’t go to such trouble,” she chided him as she sat beside him on the couch. “Marcus is the glutton, not me.”
“All boys his age are gluttons,” Felix said. “And you’re worth the trouble.”
His gaze met hers as he said that, and her stomach fluttered. She pushed aside the sensation and looked over the spread. She pointed to a few platters which appeared to house dishes containing onions and garlic. “I advise avoiding those.”
He frowned. “You don’t like them?”
“I fear they will impede our lesson today.” At his questioning glance, she clarified: “Kissing.”
“Ah.” Was it the low light, or was there a flush coloring his cheeks? “I see.”
“Or perhaps we could undertake our lesson before eating.”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
His eagerness made her smile. She rose to her feet and beckoned him to stand also. A standing kiss was safer; if she let him kiss her on the couch, she had no doubt they’d end up much too entangled in each other.
She stood with an arm’s length of space between them. “Now,” she murmured. “Show me how you would kiss me. I’ll correct you as needed.”
He stepped closer to her, surveying her mouth as if it were an arithmetic sum he needed to solve. She moistened her lips.
A kiss should be nothing after what they’d shared, and they had kissed that one time at the tavern. But kissing was for lovers, and theirs was a more mercenary arrangement.
He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, as if to anchor her in place. Then he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, hard push before withdrawing.
She couldn’t help being relieved that he wasn’t as naturally skilled at kissing as he had been at making her come.
“Was that good?” He already looked smug.
“Mediocre.” She delighted in the outrage that filled his face at her assessment.
“Mediocre?” he demanded. “I kissed you, didn’t I? It was a success.”
Lucretia rolled her eyes. “Kissing is more than a binary of success or failure.”
He crossed his arms, shoulders rising in affront. He looked like a cat that had unexpectedly gotten wet, vexed and indignant. “So what am I meant to do?”
“Firstly, you don’t need to pin me down as if I’m a chicken you’re trying to catch. Embrace me, don’t restrain me.”
“Embrace,” he murmured, as if taking mental notes.
“Secondly, a kiss should be a brush of lips at first. Let the pressure build naturally. And go slower. You kissed as if you were trying to win some sort of prize for speed.”
He shot her an offended glare, but nodded. “I am ready for a second attempt.”
“Proceed.”
