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Demeter was not the sort of woman one stole kisses from. There would be consequences and not just those at the end of a pistol. As bold as she thought she was, she was an innocent and too damned determined to do the right things for others. First this charity business, then rescuing a child and a dog. Heck, she even wanted to help him even though he had practically blackmailed her into aiding him. He couldn’t take advantage of her giving nature, no matter how tempted he was.
No matter how easy it would be to close the distance, to take her in his arms, to feel her sink into his hold. He’d kiss her neck and—
“The flowers,” he said abruptly, motioning across his neck. “Why not jewels?”
She frowned. “The flowers?”
“You wear flowers more than you wear jewels. It’s unusual for a woman of your rank.”
“I-I suppose you think I should be dripping in gems.”
“I don’t think anything. I was just curious.”
She gave a gentle smile and fingered the necklace. “It’s a habit.”
“Wearing flowers is a habit?”
“It started when I was deaf. My mother taught me the language of flowers when I was five and it seemed the perfect way to communicate how I was feeling when I struggled to express it verbally. So I started plucking flowers from the garden.” Her smile widened. “The gardener was not impressed so my mother had pieces of jewelry or little hat pins and various other things made into flowers for me.” She stopped touching the necklace and let her hand drop to her side. “I know Chastity fears I am...repressed in some way due to it.” Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “Perhaps I am.”
Well, now he wished he had not said a word. Blake found the sudden urge to do anything to bring a smile back to her lips. To make her happier than she’d ever been before. To remove any of that doubt lingering in her mind. He’d do anything to have that happen.
He moved closer, away from the closed curtains to the door, and stopped a pace away from her. He touched the necklace, following the intricate lines. “Did you mother have this one made?”
She nodded.
“I imagine it helps you feel closer to her too.”
She nodded again.
“This world is not always kind. I see no harm in such a habit if it brings comfort.”
“I doubt you need comfort.”
He hesitated, then pressed a hand into his jacket pocket. She peered at his closed fist and he turned it toward the thin sliver of light seeping through the curtain and opened his fingers. He almost snapped his fingers shut when he saw it as she would—nothing more than a tiny, worn scrap of wood.
Demeter extended a hand and ran a finger over it. “What is it?”
Swallowing hard, he fought the urge to shove it back into his pocket. “I made it. When I was about five or six, I think. It was a sort of doll—a friend if you will.”
Her gaze flicked up to his. “Why would you need a friend? Blake, you are never friendless.”
“Well, there you are wrong.” He closed his hand and returned the wood to his pocket. He’d already said too much.
“We are friends, are we not?” she said softly. “At least—”
“Yes, we are friends,” he replied swiftly, because they were.
He didn’t know how or when but they had become friends. A strange first for him, for certain. Though he’d spent much of his adult life with women, he’d never had one as a friend. Demeter already knew more about him than even Ashford so he was certain that had to count as friendship.
Friends did not want to kiss one another, though.
“I am glad because—”
He moved quickly because she was too pretty, too sweet, and he didn’t want to think on it anymore. Curving a hand around her neck, he claimed her mouth. She gasped and gripped his arms, allowing him to press the kiss deeper. A tiny, soft moan escaped her and he responded with his own groan. No wonder he hadn’t been able to resist. Her mouth seemed shaped for him, her taste called to him. Hundreds if not thousands of kisses and none had ever felt like this.
None had left his limbs feeling liquid, his heart roaring as though he’d won a great victory, his blood raging through his body.
Her tongue twined with his and he gripped her tight, aware how fragile she was, aware of how much trust she placed in him. He moved his other hand to her waist and felt the light boning of her corset through the silk. He gripped there, tugging on the fabric as if it could somehow tether him to her.
