“Take a step back, my lady.Think of the entire body of your work.How do you organize it in your mind?How did you organize it in your boxes?”
“Each writer has her own voice.”She paced behind his chair.“Each has her own things to say, would we but listen.”
That sentence expressed her passion in a nutshell, the attraction to women no one really listened to, women with voices and ideas.“Excellent!Each chapter can be one individual.”
“Some of them will be pathetically small.”
“That can have a meaning also.There are some about whom we know almost nothing.We can let each section seek its own size.”He turned to find her standing over him; his heart beat erratically at her impish expression.“What?Why are you smiling so?”
“We.You said ‘we.’”Her generosity struck him like a cannon shot.Rush of desire at the sight of her radiant face would have buckled his knees had he been standing.He was grateful he wasn’t.
He reached up to draw her closer, unable to stop himself, and she bent her head to his hand.Lilac scent flooded over his defenses when she lowered her joyous face to his.He brushed her lips with his once and then again with feathery touch.
She drew away slightly.Her eyes, wary but welcoming, never left his.He watched for the slightest sign of rejection or denial while he rose from the chair and moved his head with exquisite slowness to touch her mouth again.She closed the distance and brushed his lips with hers.Her innocent response was all the permission he needed.
He slid one hand up her neck to cup her chin, tipping it toward himself.His thumb brushed her cheek, and his long fingers feathered the edges of her hair.He used the other hand to pull her close until their entire bodies touched, until he could feel her breasts pressed against him and the curve of her hip under his hand.It was as he remembered it, as he longed for it.His mouth moved over hers softly at first and then became more demanding.Her immediate surrender held no reservation.He deepened the kiss; she opened to him completely.
It rapidly became impossible to stand.With one hand behind him to find the chair, he guided them, still embracing, down to it.He pulled her into his lap and leaned her soft curves into the crook of one arm so that he could bring his mouth down on hers.At the same time, he caressed her with hands no longer tentative or gentle but questing and demanding.
Her hand, warm on his neck, pulled him closer and sent shivers through him.The small, cautious voice floating inside him drowned in a sea of sensation.He trailed kisses down her face to the base of her neck.Soft noises from her throat assured him that he gave her pleasure, and the power of it inflamed him even further.He could feel her kisses on his hair and forehead when his searching hand found her breast and she moaned deeply.
“Georgie,” he whispered against her mouth, kissing her again, “Georgie.”
He knew, of course, where this would lead, but in that moment he didn’t care.He could take her there in the workroom, and neither of them would be able or willing to call a halt.The scent of her, the feel, and the soft moaning noises drove him on.
A muffled voice penetrated the fog of desire.Andrew raised his head and gulped for air.Chambers announced tea, scratching on the closed door as servants were expected to do.Andrew stilled his trembling hands.He set Georgiana upright and saw her blink in confusion.He began to set her clothing right, all the while watching her deep uneven breaths and her struggle for control.
The scratching sound was repeated.
“Tea is served, Your Ladyship.”Georgiana heard it that time.She pushed Andrew’s hands away and summoned the voice of command enough to say, “One moment, Chambers.Let us set our work aside.”
Her swift kiss stunned Andrew.She pulled back mere inches and shut her lips tightly to suppress a laugh.He couldn’t pull his eyes away from those luscious lips.He watched in fascination as she rose and floated across to the worktable.Her aristocratic instincts reasserted perfect control.She left him to correct his own appearance as best he could and intoned with authority, “You may enter.”
She amazed, bedazzled, and confused him.One moment she was panting in his lap; the next she was the picture of aristocratic self-possession.He envied her.He possessed neither self nor control.The feel of her warm and responsive body against his intoxicated him and put rational behavior out of reach.
Andrew did the only thing he remained capable of.He departed as quickly as decently possible.He wondered how long the redoubtable Chambers, who was used to Andrew leaving before tea, listened at the door before he spoke up.Idiot!Georgiana deserves better than that.
A twinge of discomfort twisted through Andrew’s hip when he climbed the steps to his chaise.Months before it would have been blinding agony.Now, absorbed in what had happened in Georgiana’s workroom, he barely noticed it.
What in God’s name have I done?A bitter laugh escaped him.What happened was obvious to him.He had allowed erotic longing to overwhelm good sense.Unfortunately, it was obvious to the servants too.
Andrew urged his team to pick up speed and whipped them around Helsington’s lane out onto the highway in a shower of pebbles and dirt.Damned fool.You’re going to destroy the work.
The thought struck like a fist in his gut.He realized with a shock that he had come to treasure the work as much as she did.Their sparring and the bursts of creativity that exploded from it gave joy to his days.It gave him a reason to live.Now, he was letting schoolboy lust threaten that very partnership.
Lust outweighs the work by far,he thought.It gets worse every day.No good would come of it, he was certain, and yet another thought, one buried deep behind the black cloud of his confusion and frustration, danced into the light:Georgiana struggles with the same problem.
He couldn’t stop the smile that began with a slow twitch in the corner of his mouth and spread until it transformed his mangled face.The coming weeks may be riddled with traps, but they would be interesting.She asked for knowledge, and knowledge she would get.
