Page 46 of Mistletoe and Christmas Kisses
Pushing aside the gloomy comprehension that had sneaked past pleasure, Georgiana lifted shakily to her elbow from her spot on the floor, where she and Dex had tumbled during a rather acrobatic session on the bed. “Are you injured? You managed to spin us around and take the brunt of the fall. It was awe-inspiring.”
Dex yanked the tangled sheet off his face, revealing moss green irises. The more relaxed, the darker his eyes. Over the past week, this had proven to be a fascinating study. “I told you not to twist that way. You nearly snapped off an essential part of my anatomy.”
She laughed and rolled to face him, her hand going to his bottom lip. It was plump and moist, battered from her attention. She’d had it caught between her teeth when they took their tumble. In retribution, he grasped her fingertip and sucked on it until her vision blurred.
“But you liked it,” she gasped.
Releasing her, he shook his head, his gaze going to the ceiling. “You know I loved it. I made enough noise to wake the ghosts in this place. Don’t try to catch me in your feminine trap, have me confessing what you do to me. Leave me with a slight crumb of dignity.”
She propped her head on her hand, questioning how she was going to survive without him. His habits had become part of her routine, part of her joy in the day, pleasureoutsidethe bedchamber. The way he folded his newspaper into a neat square and shoved it under his breakfast plate so he could read without handling; the way he paced while tossing a rock from hand to hand when he considered a vexing geological theory; the way his nose crinkled when he laughed; the way he rolled his sleeves into faultless folds on his forearms; the way he held her hand, lightly but forcefully, when they walked the heaths as if he feared she was preparing to run away from him; the way his pupils expanded a tick before he leaned in to kiss her.
Being exposed to such intimate details of a man’s life had started to change the way she looked at relationships, and her belly quivered with this understanding. She feared she’d been teaching her young ladies the wrong things—
No. She frowned, not wrong. She’d been teaching without actual knowledge. Relationshipscouldprovide the opportunity for great passion. For love. Her gaze roved Dex’s face. High cheekbones, strong jaw. Hair too long, lips too full. And his body,God, his gorgeous, athletic, magnificent body. Maybe more men than she’d anticipated were out there, seeking affection and understanding, vulnerable in a way she’d not imagined a man could be. Like many women were. She palmed her aching chest and swallowed hard.
How had she been so mistaken about life?
“I can feel your thoughts churning,” he whispered when she believed he’d slipped to sleep, a feat he accomplished quicker than anyone she’d ever known. Turning on his side to face her, he mirrored her posture, head in hand, gaze drowsy but steady. “I’ll pay a halfpenny for them but no more. That’s my final offer.”
“I think I’ve misled my apprentices,” she blurted, then hoped she’d recover without admitting what she was feeling. Too much, too befuddled, too jumbled. And Dex would pounce on her confession like a starved lion.
A tiny dent flowed between his brows. Another fascinating thing she’d noticed, this worrying dink. “How so, Georgie girl?”
Her gaze roamed the rug with the tattered edge, the ceiling with the spider crack, the narrow slice of moonlight shooting through a grimy windowpane. The manor she’d leased wasn’t in the best condition, but she loved it, was cozy and happy and satisfied.
But she feared her happiness was all due to Dex.
“Uh-huh.” He tipped her chin until her gaze had nothing to do but return to him. “How so?”
His quiet way of listening had proven hazardous to her secrets, encouraging her to tell him everything about her disaster of a marriage, her resentment toward her father for putting her in such a position, her hopes for the Duchess Society.Everything.
Except for theI-love-youpart.
“I didn’t know it could be like this, I could be like this,” she murmured. “I had such bitterness in my heart and my view that my marriage was representative when perhaps it was not, and now I’ve unintentionally provided erroneous guidance. Toxic guidance even. A veritable Ice Countess releasing venom on society. A bad example, when I never imagined I would be, tainting what I touch.”
“I didn’t know it could be like this, either. Therefore you’re forgiven.” His tone was impassive, hard to decipher. His lids drifted low like they did when he wanted to hide his feelings. “You’re realizing what we have. But I can see from the firm set of your lovely jaw you’re still set to make us pay for Arthur’s mistakes. Me, especially, when I’d kick the man’s arse from here to Piccadilly if he still took air. It’s ludicrous the statutes you’re imposing but my hands, as they were last night against these very bedposts, are tied.”
A bitter gust raced in the open window and drifted across their skin, still moist from loving each other this eve. Twice, in relatively rapid succession. Georgiana shivered, Dex cursed. With a twist, he yanked the counterpane from the bed and tossed it none too gently over her.
She pulled her head out from beneath the coverlet, blew a strand of hair from her face. “What would you have me do, Dex?”
He snorted, his eyes when they met hers flashing with fury. Banked to the color of a fallen tree, a dozen shades of brown and black. His palm slapped the floor as he reared to a sit. “Really, Countess Winterbourne? Shall I go down on one kneeagain?”
“You haven’t gone down onanyknee, Dex. You’ve only suggested what I should do, in your opinion. Always in your opinion. When you know I’m confused. When you know I used to do anything you asked of me, which is part of the problem. You expect my compliance, demand it even. Come along, Georgie girl, and do what I request of you. Don’t think about it because I’ve done the thinking for you!”
He stilled, considering what she’d said. It broke her heart, made her love him more. She’d never known another man who actuallylistened. “Had I asked for your hand all those years ago, would you have said yes?”
Her breath caught as they stared, unable to look away from each other. This was a dream she’d once wished for, prayed for.Oh, if only…if only… Beneath the counterpane, her hand tightened into a fist.
In the end, she nodded, the silent admission ripped from her.
“A most remarkable blunder.” His oath was violent. “My hands are still shaking,” he said and held them out so she could see them trembling. “Just so you know, I’d stalk right from this chamber to fully communicate my despondency if my legs would hold me.”
“I’m not in any better shape to bring you back like I did last night.” But his apology, offered on the sweeping staircase leading to her bedchamber, had beendelightful.
He slumped against the bedpost, head hanging, throat flexing. “You’re leaving tomorrow, Georgie. I know I agreed to this, but I’m starting to panic.”
She licked her lips, crimping the counterpane’s frilled seam between her fingers. “What if you came to visit me occasionally—”