She didn’t move away. No, to the contrary, she held still and held her breath, waiting for Theodore to do something more. Something… scandalous. Wicked. Even in a crowded room, there was no doubt the man would do as he pleased.
“You know you cannot do that, Theo. Besides, I’m not a child to be spoon-fed.”
“Eventually, you will admit I can do what I like with you, Lauren. I am finding the waiting for your acceptance of that fact to be tedious.”
“What would you do with me?” Lauren asked, her mouth curving with a little smile.
“Ah, now you tease me.”
Lauren blushed. “I’m not. I only wonder…”
“Come with me, Lauren.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because I want you to.” Theodore’s head tilted as he watched her reaction to his demand. No one could see, but his finger inched from the back of her elbow to the side of her breast. Lauren trembled while he stroked the curve there. Even through the satin of her dress, the heat of his fingertips melted and burned her skin. “Because it’s time I show you exactly what I will do with you. You will goddamn love it; I promise you that,” he said in a deceptively calm voice. “Go wait for me in the west hall.”
When he removed the bowl of lemon ice from her hand, Lauren could not find an objection within her indignation at being ordered so cavalierly. Her breathing had gone shallow, her cheeks flushed with warmth, and a terrible, frightening excitement raced along the network of her veins. This was dangerous. Dangerous and yet unavoidable.
“I won’t ask again,” he hissed in her ear, his lips brushing the fragile skin. “Go.”
Lauren did as commanded. Even though her brain screamed she should stay within the relative safety of the crowd. Even though she knew he would take something from her she could not afford to lose once he got her alone.
It was easy to slip away unnoticed from the salon, easy to find the deserted west hall and hide along the deep shadows of the corridor. And very easy to convince herself this was a colossal mistake.
Once out of Theodore’s orbit, the swirling thoughts inside her head calmed. She could think clearly. Rationally. She risked scandal with her actions, and she would be wise to hurry along to her room before someone discovered her lurking along the darkened halls and demanded an explanation.
Then she saw it. A kissing bough overhead, one of ten anchored down the hallway. She stared at it for a long moment, considering its presence. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as her anger, slow to awaken, was roused to such a point that an outlet was necessary.
There were so many of the blasted things in the house. A multitude. They’d grown in number since just yesterday. There was only one reason for so many…
A pair of heavily carved dark oak chairs rested against the wall on either side of an equally heavy Elizabethan style buffet chest. Lauren dragged one of the chairs to the middle of the hall and scrambled atop it. By stretching one arm up and holding on to the carved chair back, balanced high on her tiptoes, she could just barely reach the edge of the offending decoration. Once she had it within her grasp, she ripped it free of its moorings so that it fell to the floor.
That task complete, she carefully hopped down, scraping the chair along the plush carpeting to the next bough. It would take some time to remove all ten of the things. How many could she do before Theodore arrived?
She bit back a muffled scream of alarm when a masculine arm hooked her waist
“What do you think you are doing?” Theodore’s eyes glittered in the dim light. He held a bowl of lemon ice in his free hand while effortlessly keeping her captive with the other. “Redecorating?”
He’d scared at least five years off her life, but Lauren couldn’t let him know that. “Why on earth did I agree to meet you—”
His gaze darted to the bundle of mistletoe laying on the floor and back to her. “You don’t know why you agreed?”
She cringed a little; the upward tip of her chin haughty. “No.”
“You know why, Lauren.” Theodore’s grin was slow and wicked.
Lauren’s mouth dropped open at his calm, matter-of-fact statement. Before she could voice a horrified denial, Theodore’s hand tightened on her upper arm. Tugging her into step beside him, he led her to a huge inset of floor to ceiling windows.
The alcove appeared specifically designed for intimate encounters. Deep and spacious, several persons could stand behind the thick curtains and remain undetected from those passing by. Theodore pushed Lauren against the nook’s inside wall where the drape of the curtains hid their bodies from view. Streaming through the glass panes, the full moon reflected off the fresh snowfall. It illuminated the space with the brightness of candlelight.
For reasons Lauren couldn’t understand, the bowl of lemon ice still sat palmed in Theodore’s large hand, balanced there as he considered her with a slightly furrowed brow.
“I asked you a question yesterday at the pond, and I ask the same question now. Do you still trust me?”
Lauren shook her head to the contrary. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him precisely why.
“Understandable. So, I will give you a truth in the hopes of changing your mind,” he said in a low voice. “But you shall remain very still for me while you listen. No matter what I do. Agreed?”
Curiosity got the better of Lauren. What might this devil admit to? What secret would he reveal? What would he do to her?
A jerky nod of her head indicated her acquiescence.
“Good girl.”
His half-smile and those two words sent an unwanted flush of pleasure cascading throughout her body. As she watched, Theodore dipped the spoon into the bowl, brought the dessert to his own mouth, and swallowed. Then, as if in slow motion, he leaned forward until his lips brushed Lauren’s.
The sweet tanginess of lemon transferred from him to her. When she inhaled with surprise, he immediately took advantage, his tongue sweeping past the barrier of her teeth and plunging deep.
Lauren moaned, a small sound of distressed arousal escaping her throat that made Theodore draw back. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers, took a deep breath, and let it out in a small woosh.
“I hated what our fathers did to us, Lauren. Hated it. And I hated deceiving you.”
Chapter 9
Lauren’s heart seized with the ring of truth in his words. Still, she remained silent.
“For months, my father and yours manipulated our future. Although, once I laid eyes on you, mine was entwined with yours regardless of their plans. It still is, Lauren. Don’t you believe that?”
Theodore placed a forefinger beneath her chin and tipped until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. He contemplated her, his expression so serious it left her feeling splintered and yet, somehow complete. “They wanted us together. But the only thing that matters is us and what we want. I know what I want, Lauren. Do you? Do you know what you want?”
She couldn’t answer, not when everything in the little alcove was topsy-turvy and the blood in her veins beat in time with the cadence of his voice. If not for the wall against her back, she would have swayed in an unsteady rhythm of desire and uncertainty.
Theodore’s finger trailed from her chin, down her neck, to the mounds of flesh straining against the boundaries of her gown. While she stood frozen in paralyzed delight, he loosened the ribbons of the bodice then breached the prison of the corset and her undergarments with relative ease.