Page 10 of When Jess Wainwright’s Curiosity Was Satisfied (Wainwright Sisters #4)
Chapter Ten
C adoc watched her flush and shake the hands of congratulatory parents. Seeing her, and finally hearing her decision about the wager, was the only thing that had the power to wrench him away from his latest modification. He’d simmered for nearly half an hour as he watched other men’s eyes linger on her decolletage. He’d simmered as he watched the sweep of her skirts when she curtseyed. He’d simmered as he watched her hair escape its pins and trail errantly, temptingly down the side of her throat, one lock at a time.
Whenever her gaze turned in his direction, she looked at some point over his shoulder, studiously avoiding meeting his eyes. Even though she knew what he was waiting for. She’d promised to give him her decision tonight, and if he had to, he would wait until every other person took their leavetaking and it was down to just the two of them. So she’d have to look at him and acknowledge him and give him the answer he’d been anticipating for weeks.
When Caris had asked if he'd be accompanying her and the children back to their home he’d told her to proceed without him.
She’d given him a stern look and said, “I know what you’re about, Cadoc Elwes Morgan. Keep in mind what I’ve told you about manipulating her and the repercussions your stalking will have on her life.”
The thud of the door and the swirl of snow that landed softly on her face interrupted his reverie. It was finally just the two of them. He was half hidden in the shadows of the corner by the coat room, and he smiled wickedly as he waited for her to notice.
Her purposeful stride brought her within a hands length before she gasped. “You’re still here.”
He uncrossed his arms. “Where else would I be? I’ve been patiently awaiting your decision.”
“The answer is yes. I’ll accept your wager because you leave me no choice.” She haughtily brushed past him.
Cadoc was quick on her heels. If she was agreeing to the wager, it began tonight. His grip landed on her wrist as she loosened her grasp on her cloak. “Not so fast, Miss Wainwright. There are things I need to say before we embark on this journey.”
She froze beneath his touch, and he was close enough to see the gooseflesh rising at her nape. She was far from immune, no matter how she pretended otherwise or wished to the contrary. “What are you going to do?”
Her voice trembled slightly and he knew she was afraid. He didn’t think she was afraid of him - only of her own reaction. He lifted his hand and brushed it over her nape, grazing the knob of her spine, the tendrils of hair, and the flushed skin. She sighed and dipped her head.
Her cloak was twisted in her fingers, as if she thought it would be her salvation. Or her anchor. He would allow it to be neither.
He lowered his head to the place he’d just touched. When he buried his nose in the low bun at her nape he smelled lemon verbena and rosemary. And the subtle tang of her perspiration. Her eyes were closed and he let his lips rest against her delicate skin. “I want your eyes open. No hesitation, Jess Wainwright,” he murmured.
“I know what I’ve agreed to.”
“I know you’re angry, and you believe I’ve backed you into a corner. I have. But my intentions in doing so aren’t evil.”
She snorted. “You may not be pure evil, Cadoc Morgan, but your intentions toward me are wicked. I’m not a fool.”
“As I’ve said, my intentions were never in question. It is your response to them that is in question. Can you resist me, Jess?” He whispered into her ear.
“You haven’t earned the familiarity of my given name.”
He slid his arm around her, his hand splayed over her ribcage. He could feel the thud of her heart beneath her wool dress, her corset and her chemise. As he pressed closer, her crinoline crumpled and the bell of her skirt swung forward to brush the wall.
“I want to earn that familiarity,” he said as he fingered the black ribbon that held her cameo. “I want to earn it,” he repeated. If he earned that boon, it would ease the sense of revulsion he felt when he considered what the reprisal to her could be for her surrender. “I never would have exposed your sister. I have sisters of my own and I want them to have choices like those offered by women like Lavinia.”
“I thought our wager was for kisses. One at a time. It didn’t encompass familiarity. Or heartfelt confessions. How does telling me you made an empty threat improve your case?”
Cadoc smiled at the belligerence in her voice. “There are preludes to kisses, Miss Wainwright, that build the anticipation of the act itself. Until you are aching to feel the supple give of another’s mouth beneath your own. Until you want nothing more than to swallow their gasp of surrender.”
“So this is a prelude?”
“A prelude. An introduction. The prologue before the main event. Call it what you will, but consider it the stoking of a fire. Until the embers are in danger of leaping from the hearth and charring everything in their path. Especially misgivings and inhibitions.”
“I fear it’s not just my misgivings and inhibitions that will be incinerated, Mr. Morgan,” she softly confessed.
Her admission meant she didn’t find him repugnant, that she didn’t want a reprieve. He unfastened the clasp of her cameo and twisted the ribbon around his wrist before sliding it into his pocket. Her head fell back, and she rested it against his shoulder. The sweep of her dark lashes fluttered over the lavender crescents just beneath them. She was clearly worn to the bone and the lines of her mouth were lax with either exhaustion or concession. He hoped it was the latter.
If she was finally succumbing to temptation, Cadoc was taking every liberty she’d allow him. He slid his palm around her midriff before he skated it up her ribcage and traced a path around the rise of one breast. Her mouth parted and she moaned. She bit her lip immediately afterward, as if she was quelling her body’s betrayal.
The straight arrows of her brows lowered until they nearly touched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t a kiss,” she complained.
“No, it’s not. It’s an experience I want you to agonize over when you’re lying in your bed alone.”
She shook the hand at her waist free. “I don’t want an experience. I agreed to this ridiculous wager because there were clearly defined boundaries. You’re crossing them.”
“So be it,” he muttered and spun her around.
The first flutter of her lips was soft and astonished. Delicate, like the brush of one of her dragonfly wings. When his palm cupped her nape, her hands clutched at empty air before she fisted one of them in his shirt. His kisses were shallow, testing the waters, testing her resolve. Making her question the wisdom of the boundaries she insisted they keep between them.
Cadoc didn’t want boundaries or definitions. He wanted this fragile exploration of her awakening. He wanted to watch it bloom like night orchids behind her eyes, and flush her cheeks with ardor she couldn’t master or subdue. In his arms, she was everything he’d dreamt she would be.
He coasted his lips over the divot in her chin and the freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose like specks of stardust. He kissed the corners of her eyelids as she closed them, and then the sweep of her lashes and the purple shadows he’d noticed earlier.
His lips weren’t a gentle hello the second time. They grazed hers with intention, his hands tangling in her hair until the snood and the bun were gone and the silky mass of curls snuck under his cufflinks and glided over his wrists. He briefly acknowledged he would have welcomed the caress even if she was Medusa and the curls were the tongues of a thousand asps instead. For her, for this kiss, he’d turn to stone.
Her mouth parted again and her muscles tensed beneath his hands. He smothered her protest before she could make it again or push him away. When he slipped his tongue between her lips and slid it in the tiny gap between her front teeth, she gasped.
He stroked her upper arms as their tongues tangled together. When he drew away this time her mouth chased him for half a second before she scowled and thrust him away.
“You’ve had your first kiss.”
“I have. And you didn’t remain unaffected. Your microscope and all its various parts will remain in my possession.”
“Next time, you shall be the one chasing after me.”