She pressed her lips to Philippa’s, coaxing them to part so that Tommy could show her with her tongue just how torrid things could be.
“No seductions in the sitting room,” Elizabeth called out.
Tommy burst out laughing and pulled away.
Philippa didn’t laugh. Her gaze was hot on Tommy’s, and her smile was slow and wicked. “Shall we go upstairs?”
29
Philippa didn’t really mean to do the sensual things Tommy yearned to do with her…Did she?
Tommy’s limbs were unsteady as she led the way to the marble stairs. Philippa’s mother didn’t expect her home until the following evening. Night had fallen hours ago.
Her brain was whirring like a malfunctioning clock, a thousand gears spinning at once. It was difficult to reconcile the mundanity of climbing stairs with the reality of having Philippa right next to her as she did so. Philippa was close enough to touch. To kiss.
Tommy brushed her fingers against Philippa’s. They interlocked, caught. Now Philippa’s hand was in hers, their fingers laced together. When they reached the landing, Tommy took Philippa’s other hand and pulled her close. Tommy smiled as she lowered her mouth to Philippa’s. Like Tommy’s siblings, the Wynchesters’ servants were trustworthy and accepting. She and Philippa needn’t hurry, nor hide. They could savor this kiss.
Tonight, the magic could last as long as they wished.
Philippa’s mouth was soft and pliant. Her kisses were familiar now, which made them all the more special. This wasPhilippa’swelcoming mouth,Philippa’seager tongue. She felt like home.
Tommy was with the person she dreamed about. Each detail was too precious to forget, so Tommy committed them all to memory. She felt the warmth of Philippa’s skin, smelled the orange blossoms and vanilla in her hair.
Every time they kissed, she refined the map in her mind of Philippa. The precise distance between one corner of her mouth and the other. The round curve of her cheek, the pert angle of her nose, the warm softness of the lobe of her ear and the beckoning flutter of the pulse point just behind it. All the places their lips had tasted, as well as all the places yet to come.
One day. If Tommy was lucky.
She forced herself to lift her lips just enough to break the kiss. “I suppose I should show you to your guest chamber.”
“I suppose that is what we ought to do,” Philippa answered, her face still tilted upward toward Tommy, as if hoping for another kiss.
Tommy gave her one. Two. Ten. It was impossible to pull away.
“Or,” she said when she had once again gathered the mental fortitude to separate her mouth from Philippa’s. “You could sleep with me. If you wished.”
Philippa’s eyes widened and her breath audibly caught.
“It could just be sleep,” Tommy added in a rush. “It wouldn’t have to be anything more.”
Philippa brushed her lips against Tommy’s. “But itcouldbe, if I wanted more?”
“Um…yes.” Tommy’s heart was beating too quickly to allow for rational thought. Philippa had just said—what that meant was—“Yes, ‘more’ is a definite possibility.”
“I choose that,” Philippa said. “I want more. With you.”
“You…do.” Tommy nodded jerkily. “So do I. I choose you. I choose us.”
Philippa squeezed Tommy’s hand, then turned to face the corridor. “Show me the way.”
With their entwined fingers, Tommy pointed out each door as they passed by. “Elizabeth’s rooms. Marjorie’s rooms. Guest rooms which contain your valise and a bed that you are welcome to sleep in though I hope you do not. And my rooms, just on the other side of yours.”
She paused at the threshold to Philippa’s guest chamber.
The four-poster bed was there in the center, perfectly made, fringed silk hangings tied. The windows had been drawn, but a low fire behind the screen cast enough light to see her tall valise beside a large dressing table with plenty of space to work.
“It looks very inviting,” Philippa observed.
Tommy nodded. “I shall compliment the maids on your behalf. They will be pleased to hear it.”
