“Ah. Well, I trust you will have a good night.”
Chase took the stairs two at a time. He threw open the door to his apartment and strode into the dressing room. Hot water already waited. He cast off his coats and made use of it. Then he sent away the servant assigned to act as his valet, and checked his pocket watch. Fifty minutes past nine.
They were the longest ten minutes he had ever experienced. He kept seeing her standing by her door, flushed and bright-eyed from passion, still vaguely amazed. He heard her deep sighs and felt her tentative kisses. He was half mad by the time his watch showed ten o’clock.
Up the back stairs he walked, reining in the desire that wanted to break in him like a tempest.
* * *
Ten o’clock. Minerva braced herself.
It had been a hellish hour. One of introspection and relentless rationality. She so wanted to be some other woman right now. A woman with a different history or at least a different desire.
Was there anything more cruel than to want something after years of not wanting, and to know you cannot have it?
The deciding factor had been picturing it. Seeing him here, and imagining being in that bed with him. Only it had not been Chase whose face hovered over hers. It had been Algernon’s, and her whole spirit turned cold at the memory.
After that the madness of even considering this overwhelmed her.
She wiped her eyes. Stupid to have cried over this. Childish. Ridiculous to have allowed herself to let matters get this far. She had lost her mind.
The rap on her door came softly. The temptation not to open it almost won, but she rose and walked over. She would not be a coward now, when she had learned never to be in matters that really counted.
He stood there in the dimmest light, his shirt glowing and his face planes of shadows. Handsome. Strong, but in good ways. His strength never frightened her. He never used it the wrong way. She saw him take in that she still wore the gray ensemble. Then he looked in her eyes. His stance altered slightly. He knew.
She walked back into her chamber. She thought he might not follow, but he did. She looked out the window into the dark because she found she could not look at him. She felt him there, though. His presence filled the chamber, touching her invisibly.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I am not sure I can do this. I regret letting you think that I could.” It was not how she had rehearsed it. She had planned to say something absolute. This tentative rejection came out instead, due to the tingles emerging in her against her will.
“A lady always has the right to change her mind.” She heard his steps and glanced over to see he had moved closer to her. “Have you? It isn’t clear.”
She had hoped he would be so angry that he just left. She faced him, intending to enumerate all the reasons she should not do this.
The sight of him silenced that argument before she spoke one word. He looked unbearably handsome, so much so that her breath caught. His gaze compelled her own and a low, tight thrum started in her body.
“Have you?” he asked again, lowly.
“I don’t know.” She barely got the words out. She glanced at her bed. “This is not the same as this afternoon. This is . . . different. I am afraid I won’t . . . enjoy it the way I did the kisses today.” She gritted her teeth, and forced herself to be honest. “It is not you. It is me. The way I am.”
He cocked his head, as if trying to understand what she meant. She thought she saw some comprehension enter his eyes. “I think you are wrong about that. However, if you don’t enjoy it, we will stop.”
They just stood there for what felt was forever. He waited for her to decide. She remained incapable of thinking clearly enough to do so. Where had all those sensible conclusions from the last hour gone? She didn’t even try to remember them.
“Perhaps,” she said. “If you were to kiss me, maybe . . .”
“It sounds like you want me to seduce you. It would be better if the choice were yours without persuasion, Minerva. I want to kiss you. I want you to the point of madness right now, but only if you want me too.”
Lies. Just his eyes were persuasive. And his lean form and handsome face. Without a touch or a word, he had established sensual bonds with her, that he seemed to pull. “I only thought that a small reminder . . .”
“I will gladly remind you of the afternoon, but I would like you to come here to me, so I know you are sure.”
She wasn’t sure. Not really. Even her arousal could not obscure her mind and memories so thoroughly as to make her certain. Yet she wanted this. Very much wanted it. Right now, with his power reaching out to her, she believed that maybe this would be a wonderful thing, so wonderful that nothing could ruin it.
Nervous, she took one step. She took another and, oddly, much of her trepidation disappeared. Resolve took its place. He had asked her to make her choice explicit. Had he guessed that doing this would exhilarate her? More secure with each step she walked to him.
With one long stride he intercepted her before she finished, and pulled her into an embrace. The first kiss was careful and sweet. The next one less so. Excitement spun through her and she was glad when their embrace tightened and their passion brought more kisses, dozens of them, shared and separate, while they released some of the madness descending. Somehow, while still holding her and kissing her, he shed his shirt. The sensation of his warmth, of his skin under her hands and lips fascinated her so much she had to press kisses on his chest, just to experience it again. While she did he kissed her neck and brought one hand to caress her breast.
One note of reality plucked in her. One instant of hesitation followed. He must have sensed it. He moved his hand away. Furious with herself, she moved his hand back where it had been and kissed him hard.
