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“At our meeting tonight, my friends and I spoke of our passions and goals. Lady Henrietta Prince wants to sell the wine she produces on her family estate. I’m working on my dictionary. Viola is completing her father’s symphonic works for him because he’s going deaf, and Isobel is attending a school of...” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m not supposed to be telling you any of these secrets. The point I’m trying to make is that I’m ardent about learning new words. And I find that I’m developing a passion not only for discovering their origins, but for putting them into practice.”
She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting.
She dropped her gaze to his lips, and her voice turned sultry. “I’ve heard that some things can’t be learned from books. They must be learned by practical application.”
Firelight licked her hair and danced in her eyes. If he touched her, she’d incinerate him.
He wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and service her so well she moaned his name.
“Unless...” She bit her lip. “Unless you don’t wish to teach me?”
Teaching her carnal lessons was all he’d been thinking and dreaming about since he first glimpsed her staring at him from the library window.
The hesitation in her voice and the wavering uncertainty in her eyes wrung emotion from some part of him he hadn’t even known existed.
All he longed to do was prove to her that she was the most tempting, most alluring woman he’d ever met.
He closed his eyes for a beat. When he opened them, he’d shoved any qualms as far down in his chest as they would go. She’d said she was in full possession of her faculties. Her words weren’t slurred or her movements erratic.
The lady knew precisely what she was asking.
“You truly don’t know how lovely you are. How desirable.”
He knew how to repair broken things, how to build things to last, shore up support. He couldn’t take away her scarring childhood years. It was all a long time ago.
But he could show her how attractive she was.
“You don’t have to pretend to be someone else. You don’t have to change or hide yourself away.” He dropped to his knees. “You’re you, Beatrice. And you’re perfect.”
He pushed her skirts up her limbs, revealing the sweetest most sensual pink garters he’d ever seen and slim, elegant legs he wanted to wrap around his waist. “You’re not like anyone else and you’re extraordinary.”
He lifted her ankles in turn and untied her boots. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”He kissed the hard little knot of her anklebone and trailed his lips up her silk stockings.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Ford.”
That was a good start, but he wanted to hear her moan his name, cry out with pleasure.
Her drawers were easily untied and loosened enough to slide to her ankles. He threw them aside.
He placed his hands on her knees and parted her legs, sliding them open. “Do you ever touch yourself, Beatrice?” He slid his fingers along her inner thighs. “Here?”
Her body quivered as she shook her head vehemently. “No. Never.”
“You don’t live in your body. You live here.” He reached up to touch her forehead.
“My body hasn’t always been the safest of places.”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “I want you to show me what that word meant.”
He stroked his hands over her thighs. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.” He wanted her to know that. He caught her gaze and held it.
She nodded. “I understand. I’m in control.”
“That’s right. You control what I can do to you. I want to kiss you so badly.” He brushed a finger softly over her core. “I want to give you pleasure.”
He kissed his way up her thighs, stopping to revel in the satin and ribbons of her garters.
