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“I disagree.”
He moved to pull me farther away from the window. The sudden shift in our weight startled me, and I yelped, clinging to him as though it were only one small wrong step out into the thin air after all. His arms came around me like a shelter, pulling me nearer, protecting me from the freezing breeze still pouring in. He moved our bodies, turning us both so he could place himself between me and the night. We may have both realized at that exact moment our situation, my hands pressed to his bare chest, our barely clothed bodies a mere inch apart.
I did the worst thing and looked up at him.
He regarded me with an expression I didn’t have to guess, an open want so clear even I couldn’t mistake it. I immediately bowed my head again, but in a motion I found dizzying, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted my face forcefully back to his, pressing his mouth over mine in a hungry, fervent kiss.
Beyond common sense, I opened my mouth to invite his tongue. He cupped my backside, greedily crushing me against him, fingers so painfully close to the hot, yearning place that ached for him. I felt his desire hard against my stomach, and in the heat of my lust I nipped his lips between my teeth. He made a noise low in his throat like the growl of a beast in the wilderness.
“You’re constantly testing my restraint,” he rumbled, as though it would do any good, put me back on a path where I’d walk away from this with nothing lost.
“I’m sorry, Professor, but you don’t seem the type to have any,” I replied, breathless.
“You impudent creature,” he chuckled. “Where do you find your gall?”
I didn’t have to consider an answer. He swept me back toward the window, this time to the dresser nearby, and lifted me on its top, scattering perfume bottles to the floor. He was between my legs, shoving my slip around my hips, so the last barriers to overcome were only the silk of his pants and my cotton underthings. The chill of the room had been biting, but now its intensity was erotic, serving to fuel my appetite for the heat of this man’s body. His mouth returned to mine, demanding, his hand in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck, which he trailed kisses upon. Coming to the loose strap at my shoulder, he pulled it down, the tips of his fingers trailing my skin and leaving goose bumps in their wake. He slid the front of my neckline over the crest of my breast, exposing it to the cold, and my nipples hardened. The hand still in my hair twisted, forcing me to arch my back, chest rising closer so he could drag his tongue across one stiff peak while his free hand fondled and pinched the other. A strike of lust-dusted pain bolted into my groin, and I gasped. I’d never been pinched or bitten or touched roughly in this way before and it was gratifying.
“Enjoy that, did you?” His voice was coarse with desire. “You may find this agreeable as well.”
His hands abandoned their previous positions, tucking beneath my knees and lifting my legs up. My bottom slipped forward, and I was forced to brace myself with my hands to stay upright. Pressing my legs outward to expose me to his intentions, he dipped his head, lips brushing the damp cotton between my splayed thighs with the whisper of a touch. Then came the warm pressure of his tongue against the fabric, teasing the small swell of nerves and sending a searing shock wave into my core. Overwhelmed, I tilted my head, my breath halting in preparation for the next sensation of his mouth.
I saw her then.
The same creature who’d only moments ago thrown herself out the window into the night. She crouched on the outskirts of the firelight in the shadows between my bed and the settee. Though her face was concealed by shadows, I knew she was watching us.
“Callum,” I choked out, newly frightened, barely able to speak at all.
At the tone of my voice, he raised himself, blocking my view of the apparition for a mere second, long enough for it to vanish. The conflict on his countenance was as evident as the desire had once been. He’d misunderstood my shock as reluctance, and I had nothing to show him. No proof to give. I’d hallucinated the same thing I’d read in the forbidden journal.
The journal. I’d thrown it. It lay open somewhere on the floor, calling out my guilt.
“I’m a fool,” he muttered, gently pulling the strap of my gown back to rights, stepping back, and running a hand over his face in an aggressive attempt to clear his mind. “I’m taking advantage of you. You’ve had a fright, you’re not thinking straight. Neither am I, and for you to regret…”
I was desperate for him to touch me again, angry at myself for letting something so clearly unreal damage the moment. “Don’t you think I’m capable of knowing my own desire?”
The worddesirerocked him, and he closed his eyes.
I moved to eliminate the horrible distance he’d created, but footsteps and high voices were coming down the hall. I slid off the dresser and straightened my nightclothes mere moments before Ms. Dillard came rushing in with Felicity trailing her, wide-eyed. Felicity and Ms. Dillard were wrapped in warm winter robes, the coil of Ms. Dillard’s normally tightly coiffed hair hanging loose over her shoulder. She looked softer this way, the worry in her eyes humanizing her.
“Who’s hurt? Felicity said there was wailing. Fetched me from a dead sleep.”
She stopped, taking us in, and for a moment, it appeared she’d drawn her own conclusions about the sounds Felicity had claimed to hear. Callum explained the barely avoided calamity, then gruffly excused himself and left me to Ms. Dillard, who made a severe commotion, ordering Felicity to fetch tea and a snifter of whiskey and bustling me back into bed. At last, she went to the window and closed it tight against the night.
“We need no more tragedy in this house,” she said, latching it with a snap.
Chapter 14
Sleep didn’t find me until dawn wept through the latched window, but when it came at last, it was dreamless. When I awoke, it was early afternoon and my insides immediately began to roil with worry over what had transpired the night before: my sleepwalking, my sensual encounter with the professor, and the disturbing fact that I was sure I had seen something, someone, in the room, even when I had been fully awake.
At ten till one, Ms. Dillard opened my door without even a knock and barged in with a tray, exclaiming I’d missed breakfast and lunch and that she wouldn’t allow anyone to become a skeleton on her watch. I was uncomfortable with the extra attention, but the woman didn’t listen when I insisted I was all right.
She bustled around the room, pulling the curtains farther open and stoking the fire, her demeanor as stony and inscrutable as ever. I climbed out of bed, and Ms. Dillard immediately whisked a robe to me.
“I was awake all night worried you’d caught Felicity’s illness. How is your stomach? You say you’re not hungry, which I take as a bad sign. Sit, eat.”
She hadn’t waited for me to tell her the status of my insides, which were somewhat hollow but fine. My head, however, was pounding. I expected that this was due to unruly thoughts, not a malady. I did as she said and ate the plain oatmeal provided without a hint of sugar or cinnamon. She then demanded I drink a glass of orange juice and a strong cup of coffee, no cream.
As I ate, she began straightening things, and to my horror, she picked up the journal I’d thrown right where it had fallen, pages splayed open. She didn’t even glance at it more than to take it in her hand, close it, and place it on the dresser where Callum had nearly defiled me.
