He stalked towards her and stopped a few paces away. “Have you found a new subject? Is that what this is? Is it Lord Ebenezer?”
Theodora shook her head and laughed. “There is no other subject. It was not meant to go this far, Alex. You helped me with my experiment.” Her voice trembled with anger. “You got what you wanted, and I have what I needed.”
“And what would that be?”
“I have my answer.”
Theodora lifted her chin high, eyes bright with a fire he had never seen before.
“What is your answer?” he asked her gruffly.
“Love is nothing but an illusion,” she said coldly. “Love is just a word people tell each other to disguise their lust and make their pathetic lives seem less painful and lonely.”
Theodora glared at him, and Alexander noticed the hurt in her eyes. She lowered her gaze and tried to escape him again, but he caught her wrist just in time. He stepped closer, crowding her against the cool stone balustrade of the veranda until her back met the railing. The distant music of the ball drifted through the open doors behind them. Out here, shadowed by climbing roses, they were utterly alone.
Alexander pressed close to her and felt her body tremble in response. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and he whispered darkly, “What is so wrong with lust, Theo?”
He felt her shiver at the heat of his breath against her skin. Slowly, deliberately, he released her wrist only to slide his hand up her bare arm, fingertips tracing the sensitive line from elbow to shoulder. Gooseflesh rose in their wake. When he reached the delicate slope where neck met shoulder, he let his thumb stroke slow, lazy circles over her racing pulse.
Theodora’s breath hitched audibly. Her free hand lifted as if to push him away, but instead her fingers curled into the lapel of his coat, clutching and holding on to him.
He smiled against her ear and pressed his body flush to hers, letting her feel the hard length of his arousal through layers of silk and wool. His other hand found her waist, fingers splaying wide, thumb brushing the underside of her breast in a slow, teasing arc.
She gasped, and the sound was soft and broken.
“See?” he murmured, lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. “Your body does not lie. It wants me. It aches for me. Just like mine craves you at every waking moment and throughout all my sleepless nights.”
“We cannot?—”
Before she could protest, he tilted her chin up with two fingers and claimed her mouth. The kiss was not gentle. It was hungry and consuming. His tongue swept past her parted lips, tasting the faint sweetness of champagne. Theodora made a small, desperate sound into his mouth and kissed him back, fierce, and frantic. Her hands slid up to fist in his hair. She arched against him, breasts pressing to his chest, hips rocking once in helpless need.
Heat roared through Alexander. He groaned low in his throat, deepening the kiss as one hand slid down to grip her hip and pull her tighter against the insistent press of his member.
But Theodora abruptly pulled back and tore her mouth from his. Her chest heaved and her lips were swollen and glistening.
“This is wrong,” she whispered breathlessly. “Someone could catch us.”
Alexander’s eyes never left her face.
He brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek with his thumb and spoke huskily, “Then meet me, tonight. At my house where no one will ask any questions.”
Theodora stared at him, eyes wide and stormy, lips still parted from his kiss. For one suspended heartbeat he thought she might say yes but she shook her head instead and pulled free of his hold.
“I never want to see you again,” she hissed at him, turned and slipped back through the doors into the blaze of candlelight and laughter inside Thornwall estate.
Alexander remained on the veranda, alone with the night air and the ache she had left behind. He dragged a hand over his mouth, tasting her there, and let out a low, rueful laugh.
* * *
Observation, Day Six
The subject returned to London after an absence of approximately seven days. During this period, I experienced a persistent state of physiological restlessness characterized by elevated heart rate, disrupted sleep cycles, and an inability to maintain cognitive focus on any task of academic value. Symptoms bear resemblance to the early stages of what certain physicians classify as “female hysteria,” though I find the diagnosis both insulting and scientifically unsound.
Nevertheless, the correlation between the subject’s absence and my symptoms is undeniable.
Upon the subject’s reappearance, the aforementioned physiological disturbances intensified. Notably, during a private interaction when the subject initiated physical contact. The response was immediate and alarmingly strong. I have not experienced this with a different subject who initiated physical contact through a dance. I experienced a surge of autonomic activity. Accelerated pulse, warmth across the thoracic region, and a marked decrease in rational processing to name a few.
For a moment, I nearly permitted the interaction to progress further, which would have been catastrophic for both my reputation and the integrity of this experiment.I terminated the encounter in time.
