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“I went and saw my paintings again.” There was a hint of recrimination in her voice. “You were the one who had them changed, weren’t you?”
“It was a travesty to hide them like that.”
“You make my head spin,” Manuela lamented as Cora inched closer, an eyebrow raised. “One moment you insist we are to maintain the terms of our agreement and the next you do something utterly romantic and kind. It is absolutely exhausting.”
“I’m sorry.” She pressed a gentle kiss to the spot right behind Manuela’s ear that fascinated her, and she exhaled in that soft, warm way she did when Cora touched her in the exact way she liked. “It was awful of me to be thoughtful,” she teased. “And just when we had finally agreed I was terribly rude.”
“Yes,” Manuela exclaimed, those dark eyes flashing with humor. “I finally had myself under control, and you had to ruin everything by doing something wonderful, and now you have my body in chaos again.” Cora laughed at the very hostile way in which she uttered the last word.
“Perdon, princesa,” she apologized again, this time placing her hands over Manuela’s which were still clutching the top of her dress. “Might I ask where the chaos is occurring?” she taunted, eliciting a grudging smile from Manuela. “Could it possibly be here?” She ran the tip of a nail over the mound of one breast. “Or perhaps down there?” She slid a hand into the pocket she’d ordered Bernadette to sew into the skirt. Manuela gave a delicious little gasp as Cora’s fingers caressed over her sex.
“That is depraved!” she cried, eyes as round as saucers, while Cora added her other hand to the second pocket and cupped her with both hands. “This is absolutely not duchess-like behavior. Did you do—” She gasped when Cora’s thumb pressed right over her clitoris. “Mm,” she moaned in a mixture of surprise and raw lust. Cora watched in the mirror as Manuela’s eyes fluttered closed, lost already. Fully trusting of the pleasure she was about to receive—and Cora wanted to give her everything. To spend days and days making this woman cry out in ecstasy, turn her bones to water with her mouth and hands.
“Let go of your bodice, sweetheart. I won’t let it get ruined,” she instructed very gently, as her hands worked Manuela under the skirt. She’d slid two fingers into the slit of her combination and into that delicious heat. Once the bodice was gone, Manuela unbuttoned the undergarment so Cora could see those beautiful breasts spilling over the corset.
“I’ve missed them,” she groaned, her voice greedy as Manuela touched herself in Cora’s view. Her small hands tugging at the tips of her breasts, eyes screwed shut, short puffs of air escaping her lips. “You’re so hot inside,” Cora praised and felt Manuela clench on her fingers. “Mm, wonderfully wet,” she said approvingly as she moved her fingers in and out of her lover. “Rock into my hand, darling.” Manuela did, her hips canting back and forth into Cora’s touch until they were both panting. When she felt as though she would combust, Manuela shifted, ripping one of her hands from her breast and pulling Cora down for a hungry, frantic kiss. Their teeth clashed as their tongues stroked and tangled, while Cora rubbed circles over that tight nub, pinching when she felt her princess start to tremble.
“Yes, come for me, sweetheart.” Almost instantly Manuela’s body stiffened, and soon those little moans of pleasure were filling the room.
A series of light knocks on the door could’ve been thunder clapping inside the room. Cora’s first instinct was to hide Manuela’s nakedness, and she moved to shield her from the view of the door, but no one came inside.
“Your Grace,” the quiet voice drifted inside. “Do you need my assistance with anything?”
Manuela, who had shifted and was now plastered to Cora’s front with her face hidden against her chest, began to shake at the question.
“That won’t be necessary, Bernadette. We shall be out in a few minutes.”
After a short pause the other woman spoke again, while Cora pressed kisses to the top of Manuela’s head. “Yes, of course. I shall let your carriage driver know.” The modiste took great pains to walk away with heavy feet. Manuela’s frame still shook. Worried, Cora looked down at the heiress and found that the shaking was not from nerves but from laughter, and soon she was laughing too.
“That was quite debauched.” Manuela beamed as she pushed up for a kiss.
“I am happy to know I’m finally living up to my end of the deal.” For a second a shadow passed over her face, and Cora wanted to kick herself for mentioning the damn arrangement. But Manuela recovered quickly and bravely offered Cora one of those luminous smiles that made her heart skip a beat. “That is all good and well, Your Grace, but now that you’ve sent Bernadette away, I will need some help with this.” She waved a hand in front of her undone combination. Cora snatched one of those hands which, as always, carried a few smudges from charcoal and paint and kissed the tips.
“I will be happy to assist. Besides, we should hurry up,” she said, pointing at the clock in the mirror. “We’re going to be late for the surprise I have for you.”
Manuela frowned as she undid the fastening at her waist, then looked up at Cora with a shy smile on her lips. “I do like surprises.” Cora pushed a fist into her chest to keep her heart inside it. “But will this count as the eighth outing?” she inquired, all business now. “Because after the inverted-beetle lecture, I am going to have to demand some information before agreeing to go.” It was hopeless to even try to smother a grin.
“No,” Cora said, equally serious now. “That will be the opera.” She could see her own misery reflected in Manuela’s eyes. “Let’s call it a bonus. I think you will like this one very much, but we must make haste.” She managed to sound cheerful enough and tried to get them on better footing by veering to more familiar ground. “I didn’t intend to get distracted, but you are impossible to resist.” She was gifted with a scorching sideways glance for that, as the two of them made quick work of divesting her of the bright pink dress and getting her back into her day suit. After a few very heated kisses and more than a few gropes of that delectable rump, Manuela was dressed and ready for her adventure, and Cora could barely remember what had been so important that she’d kept herself away from this ray of sunshine for two entire days.
“Are we going back to the Rapp Gallery?” Manuela asked, her head turned up to Cora, who had so far been aggravatingly vague about the surprise.
“You will have to see,” the duchess declared with a sly grin as they made their way across the Pont d’Iéna to one of the entrances of the fairgrounds. This gate lead straight to the area under the tower and the Sun Alley that hosted the exhibits from the Americas. It was late afternoon now, and most of the exhibits were closing down, but there were still hundreds of people enjoying the offerings.
By some miracle they’d managed to leave Madame Bernadette’s shop without being caught—or, at least, caught in flagrante delicto.
She hadn’t been joking when she said Cora made her head spin. She could be so forbidding, so indifferent. Like nothing could get past her defenses. And suddenly she was ordering Manuela expensive dresses, organizing surprises, or ravishing her in a dressing room with half a dozen people merely feet away. It was tantamount to psychological warfare, and the rub of it was that as long as there was even the slimmest likelihood of ravishment, Manuela would not be able to stay away.
“What is the building for?” she asked, knowing full well the more she learned about this woman the harder it would be down the road. “The one you finally got your meeting about?” She didn’t expect an answer.
“I intend to build a club,” Cora said, surprising Manuela, once they reached the St. Vidal fountain under Eiffel’s tower. Manuela took in Cora’s demeanor. She seemed to puff up as she shared her intention. That light frost that enveloped her whenever her business prowess came up altered even the sound of her voice.
“A ladies’ club?” Manuela asked, even though she was quite certain that Cora Kempf Bristol would likely set herself on fire before purposing an entire building for ladies of leisure to knit and drink tea.
“A very exclusive business club, for gentlemen,” she corrected, then waved a hand in the direction of the pavilions. “Shall we?”
Manuela wanted to ask more, but she knew she’d probably sour the mood if she did, and besides, what did she care what Cora was doing? She would not be here for any of it. “Is that where we’re going, to one of the pavilions?” Manuela asked, dying of curiosity, but Cora only laughed and slid her arm into hers.
“It is a surprise,” Cora reminded her in a low, husky voice that made Manuela quiver. It was, of course, a perfectly normal thing for ladies to do with each other, walk arm in arm. No one who saw them strolling there, taking in the wonders of the exposition, would imagine what they’d done with each other just an hour ago. Or the many other things Manuela wanted to do.
