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Finn looked away now, her beautiful face conflicted with emotions. She was torn. How could she feel so intimate with this man, and yet so estranged from him at times too?
“I don’t think it’s my place, or yours for that matter, to judge.”
“You don’t think it’s my place?”
Her eyes skidded back to his face and her heart thumped hard against her ribcage. His handsomeness was exasperating. Every now and again she forgot just how beautiful he was; and then it hit her like a sledgehammer.
“Well, it’s more your place than mine, I guess,” she said with a smile most men would have found adorable.
“A big concession,” he muttered, flicking her arm lightly.
“So?” She prompted, curiosity unfurling in her gut. “You do stand in judgement of your step-mother?”
“She’s no more my step-mother than Gower was my father,” Caradoc intoned flatly. “And yes. I think she was an average wife and a less-than-spectacular mother.”
Finn pursed her lips, but his statement was too intriguing to be let go. “In what way do you think she was wanting in the wife department?”
His sneer was so full of emotion that Finn felt a dangerous warning trickle down her spine. “She, like many women, saw my father as a never-ending bank account, and little else.”
Finn propped her head up on her palm, partly just to stop herself from drifting off. This conversation was one she wanted to have, though she refused to analyse why it mattered so much to her. She picked her way through her mind, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to say.
“Did you know,” he murmured, dropping his hand to her breast so that he could draw invisible circles around her nipple, “that you have a very particular expression when you are trying not to offend me?”
Her nerve endings were tingling. Being in Caradoc’s bed was a form of sexual torture. She had never felt greater pleasure or exhaustion, and somehow she was never satisfied enough nor exhausted enough to be able to resist him. Already she felt desire swirling anew in her gut and she had to concentrate to keep her thoughts in order.
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He leaned forward and kissed the edge of her lips. “And as much as I think you look beautiful when lost in thought, let me save you the trouble. You cannot offend me. No matter what you say, I assure you, I’ve heard worse.”
Her eyes widened at the arrogant challenge; she instinctively knew it to be true, though. Caradoc Moore, for all his charisma and success, was a man who would easily polarise most people.
“Fine,” she smiled up at him sweetly, but his fingers on her breast were making her body quiver. Goosebumps danced along her spine. “You’ve told me that you haven’t seen Gower more than a handful of times in recent years. Do you really think …”
“That I know what I’m talking about?” He interrupted; another habit of his that Finn wished she found more frustrating. It was bad mannered, but on Caradoc, it was just … sexy. It was pure him.
She nodded, transfixed by the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes.
“I’m better placed than most to know exactly what I’m talking about.” He compressed his lips and Finn burst out laughing.
“Now you’re worrying about offending me,” she chided softly. “That’s not like you.”
His frown was deep. “No, it’s not.” He studied her thoughtfully. “You aren’t a thing like the women I usually sleep with.”
She hated how he did that. At every opportunity, Caradoc found a way to remind Finn that they slept together. That they weren’t actually together in the true sense of the word. But she pretended not to notice. “In what way?”
“In every way,” it was a quick pronouncement and she wasn’t sure if she should feel put-down. “That’s a compliment,” he said, intuiting her muted reaction. “You are beautiful. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known.” His hand moved away from her breast, to run down her side, so that he could lay it on the swell of her hip. He moved forward, and she felt his erection hard against her stomach. It made her groan softly.
“But?” She prompted, her voice husky.
“You didn’t pursue me. In fact, I suspect that you actually hesitated about this situation, in the beginning.”
She pursed her lips. “Damn right I did.”
His laugh was velvet and cocoa.
“Why is that funny?”
“Because,” his hand drifted lower, to curve around her buttocks, and he pulled her forward, so that his arousal was teasing her core. “Usually, I do not need to ask twice.”
