Bothersome.
“What are you doing here anyway?” This was her sanctuary, she was here to get him out of her mind. He belonged in salons and gambling halls.
“You like my coat?” he preened.
“Please…I was thinking you looked rather bestial.”
He barked a laugh. “I could wear it to bed if you’d join me.”
She pulled a face of distaste even as her breasts felt heavier, imagining the feel of the soft fur pressed against her naked flesh.
“As you are looking for something to read, I’d suggest the latest edition of The Women’s Herald. A riveting article called Russian Princes in London.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if there would be anything to write about a man who does nothing.”
He stilled.
She expected one of his witty comebacks, but it didn’t come.
His jaw was tight, and he looked…annoyed. She should feel happy to have finally stopped him in his tracks and yet she didn’t. She felt somehow that she had offended him.
“We have your tray, Your Grace.” The store manager stood at the end of the bookcase.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me.” She gave Ilya a small nod and moved past him, then followed the manager to a small table laid with her tea service, two plush little reading chairs one on either side. It was nestled between the window and a bookcase on travel memoirs, her favorite place to sit while she determined which of the books she’d selected she would purchase and to peruse some of the periodicals.
Seraphina glanced up expecting Ilya to have made his selection and pay for it at the counter, of which she had a clear view from where she sat. Eventually curiosity got the better of her. She took her tea cup and walked along the end of each bookcases looking down the rows to see what had captivated him.
Ilya was nowhere to be found.
She paced back along the shelves but there was no sign of him. The shop’s discordant bell had not rung to signal his departure. Her gaze caught that of the shop manager who looked quickly away.
Most odd.
Since there was no chance of Ilya seeing that she actually was interested in reading about him, she went to the periodical section. The latest edition of The Women’s Herald sat proudly displayed alongside multiple copies ready to be sold. Seph brought a copy back to her chair, along with her usual copies of The Bookman, The Idler and The Dome which had published one of her poems in this December edition.
She then set about devouring the article about him and his brother. She took out a small notebook she kept in her purse and wrote down his interests, small facts.
Horses. Managing his Estates. Chess.
“I like a woman who knows what I like.” Ilya stood with a package wrapped neatly in brown paper under his arm. From the expression on his face he had forgotten the earlier moment when she had offended him.
“Oh. You’re still here.” She looked up. It was too late to pretend she hadn’t been taking notes. She pushed her embarrassment aside, covering it with her usual foil of cool disinterest. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The man didn’t even try and hide the satisfied smile as she snapped the periodical closed and placed it to one side.
“May I?” He motioned to the empty seat.
“I would have thought you’d have more stamina.”
“I don’t understand.” His Russian accent arched through her.
“You led me to believe you could stand erect for long periods of time.”
He barked a laugh and sat, placed his package on the floor beside him and helped himself to a shortbread biscuit.
“You should ask before you eat what belongs to another.”
“I recall making numerous suggestions.” The intimate kiss, the tableau of Marsden and his woman. And just like it did at their every meeting, her body again warmed, her skin sensitized and she wondered what it would be like to be his lover.
Mesmerized, she watched his mouth as he chewed. The rake made a point of licking his lips.
Seph quickly glanced away.
What did a tongue feel like between your legs? She had no doubt that his lovers knew what his tongue felt like between their legs.
Ilya rumbled something in Russian and she looked up. The casual smile was gone. His face was focused, intense, his gaze moving over her as if she were his next piece of shortbread.
“I want more of you Seraphina.”
The words raced through her leaving a hot trail.
“I think we’d both enjoy some extended time together. Am I correct?” This was what they referred to as courage in love, or more correctly in this case, desire. That leap that exposed you. That moment when you whipped off the covers and revealed what you wanted and how you felt.
Her hand had made its way to her chest and clutched there as her heart raced under it. Thoughts flew so fast through her mind she couldn’t catch a single one, didn’t know what she thought or what to say.
This was it then, how people began a liaison.
Ilya lowered his voice and leaned closer over the tea service. “I want to kiss you as Marsden kissed his paramour. I want you to murmur more of your sweet words in my ear as I show you what if feels like to drown a slow delicious death in pleasure.”
Her face heated and her heart pounded in her ears.
“I’m not sure.” They had chemistry, yes, but she still wasn’t sure she liked him. When they were together, just the two of them, she forgot how he was, the flirtatious looks he gave women and his ever-present thigh warmers. The man single-handedly fed the gossip columns a banquet. Every. Night.
“Tell me your concerns. Let me address them.” His face was sincere, serious and oh so handsome. He’d run his hand through his hair at some point and looked a little tousled.
“I don’t wish to offend you.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I think I have survived so far. Just tell me what’s bothering you about…me. Because we both know we have a compatible attraction.”
A compatible attraction.
Is that what all the sizzling heat, the pulsing in her sex and the aching in her breasts meant? She called it the sweetest of tortures.
Seph purposefully smoothed her skirts as she thought, then folded her hands in her lap. He had been honest. So would she.
“Well this compatible attraction must come very easily to you considering the number of women dripping off you already. I’m not sure I want to squeeze in amongst them.”
His jaw tightened fractionally but he nodded. “I do have women admirers. And that will continue. However, should we establish a liaison, I can sincerely promise to share intimacies only with you.”
The slight weight in her chest gave her the answer she knew she would give him.
“But you would still need your thigh warmers?”
“Thigh warmers?”
She smiled, a little sadly. “You always have a woman on your knee or curled into you on the sofa.”
“I do,” he said softly. “That doesn’t mean I share a compatible attraction with them. It is simply the way of things.”
The disappointment was surprising as it soaked through her.
Seph stood. Started to collect the books she wanted to purchase as well as the periodicals, and yes she did include The Women’s Herald. “I don’t think that’s my style. Perhaps we should leave the matter there.”