The longer she remained mute, the more it appeared she wished him to stay.
“Lauren?” Theodore’s hand tightened on her chin, his thumb rising to graze her lower lip as though testing its softness.
Lauren had no idea what possessed her, she really didn’t, but her lips parted slightly as she stared into the wintery indigo depths of Theodore’s eyes. Her tongue darted out, swiping at his thumb in quick exploration before she let him push it further into the depths of her mouth.
Something very wicked and primal and unbearably wild roared to life inside her when she observed his hunger.
Yes, he will consume me, drown me in lust and want. I’m foolish enough to believe I can withstand the onslaught and not long for more.
Theodore’s eyes burned as he moved his thumb deeper until her tongue curled around it, and her mouth closed over it with an innocent understanding of what he wanted. So intent was Lauren on watching his eyes as they ignited into twin flames that she truly did not pay heed to his other hand until suddenly it was below the waterline. Touching her breasts. Smoothing the globes alternately with his palm, measuring and caressing until Lauren’s back arched the slightest bit, and her breasts broke the water’s surface.
A muscle ticked in Theodore’s clenched jaw, but his hand remained steady as he stroked her.
“A favor I will take this time.”
His words were a growled rumble that oddly enough vibrated inside her chest as if he’d cut her open and deposited them there.
Then his fingers plucked one taut, dusky rose nipple, quickly followed by the same treatment of the other, and Lauren moaned softly. Almost convulsively, she swallowed around his thumb, unable to stop herself from doing so again and again as he softly pinched and tweaked the pebbled, sensitive peaks of her breasts.
Pressure was building within her, sparking the nerves hidden behind the soft folds at the apex of her thighs. It was unbearable. She wanted him to touch her there. To thrust his fingers deep inside her and extinguish the raging fire.
It was torture. It was pleasure. It was everything she never realized she needed. Now she wanted it all, and in the midst of the whirlwind, she hated Theodore Hawthorne for awakening this hunger.
“You are so beautiful, Lauren.” Theodore’s voice was a gravelly mix of desire and awe. “I cannot wait for the day you are truly mine. How foolish you’ve been, keeping yourself from me.”
Lauren froze as if drenched by a bucket of cold water. Giving his thumb a sharp, little nip, she shoved him away at the same time.
Jerking away with a low growl, Theodore examined the tiny wound then sucked off the drop of blood. For a heartbeat, his eyes narrowed while he studied Lauren’s face, almost as if he couldn’t believe she’d snapped at him.
“The day I am yours?” Lauren spat. “I still haven’t forgiven you for lying to me, so I can’t say for certain I’ll ever be yours. You’ve had your fun this morning, Hawthorne, with your silly mistletoe. Now, get out of my room before I scream this house down around your ears.”
The threat did not seem to faze him in the least. With a low bow, he turned and scooped up his coat.
“I’ll go, Lauren.” The smile he gave her was unnerving, but far more unsettling was the moment he leaned forward and tipped her chin up so he could stare into her eyes. “We shall finish this later.”
Chapter 5
Each time Theodore closed his eyes, he saw Lauren’s breasts. Perfect. Round. Slightly bigger than the palm of his hand and tipped with the most delectable rose-hued nipples.
Given the chance, he would have played with her all day. Would have bent his head and tasted those lovely peaks after teasing them to stand at stiff attention. Would have slid his hand down her flat, silken stomach until he speared the damp curls between her thighs. He would have swallowed her whimpers of pleasure as he penetrated her tight passage with his fingers and stroked her to completion.
Theodore rubbed a hand over his face, mentally scrubbing away the images from his brain.
Lauren was proving quite resistant to his attempts thus far, although he sensed her underlying weakness. He’d awoken a tiny flame of desire deep within her. Fanning those flames higher would require ruthless dedication. He would not relent until she realized how much he truly loved her and how he regretted his role in what their fathers had done.
While waiting for Lauren’s appearance downstairs, Theodore took notice of the abundance of mistletoe hung around the mansion. It adorned nearly every passageway, doorway, and window that he could see. Penelope even took the opportunity of having it dangled from the chandeliers.
There were not many places Lauren would be safe, and that pleased him greatly.
“Why are you not gone?” Lauren asked behind him, sounding quite vexed.
Pivoting toward her, his grin widened at the sight of her standing in the entrance to the dining room.
He bit back a laugh when she glanced heavenward and then rushed forth so she wasn’t caught beneath the kissing bough again.
“Gone?” Theodore’s brow raised, taking in the butter-hued morning dress she wore. It complimented her rich brown hair and its honey-streaked highlights perfectly. He wondered how long her hair was. He’d never seen it down—it was always in some kind of bun or elaborate updo.
Today, it was piled into a shining mass high on her head, the straight length wrapped around itself in a braided coronet. Wispy tendrils brushed her ears, softening the effect. It looked lovely on her, reminding him again how tender the exposed nape of her neck was.
“Yes. Gone. I thought you were riding this morning?”
Theodore seated himself at the table, watching one of the servants pour coffee for him. He’d taken a liking to the stuff. Thank God Penelope and George served it as occasionally he desired something a bit stronger than an insipid cup of tea.
“I am. Care to join me?” he offered politely.
Lauren bit her lip before shaking her head. “It’s far too cold for riding. Besides, Penelope asked that the ladies prepare sweetmeat and almond papers today for decorating the tree.”
“Sounds incredibly boring.”
Theodore thought she might reprimand him, but after a moment, she sighed in agreement. “It does. But regardless, it’s still too cold for riding.”
He couldn’t believe she was actively, albeit not enthusiastically, subtly seeking his company.
“We could go ice skating instead.” Sipping his coffee, Theodore watched over the cup’s rim as she slid into the chair beside his.
“Still rather cold…” Lauren frowned, picking up a fork and testing the sharpness of the tines.
“We could have a fire near the water’s edge. A few blankets…” He poured her a cup of tea, dismissing a hovering servant with a wave of his hand. “Settleton says the pond is frozen solid.”
Lauren accepted the cup pushed toward her, dropping two sugar cubes into the steaming liquid. She stirred the tea with a tiny silver spoon while considering him beneath a fringe of dark lashes, her eyes twin pools of cloudy grey.
“I’ve never ice skated before.”
“I’ll show you how it’s done,” Theodore immediately offered.
The look she gave him was frankly suspicious, and Theodore could not help but laugh. But before he could voice any assurances that he held no ulterior motives, George and Lord Sanderson bustled into the room.