Being as sharp as a tack, he grinned. “You owe me a forfeit, Miss Darrow.” He looked at her lips, and she felt sure he would demand another kiss. “I believe I shall claim it now.”
“What do you want me to do, Mr Chance? Cluck like a chicken?” She wasn’t ready to kiss him again. Not when he weakened her defences.
“Where’s the pleasure in that?”
She swallowed hard. “What would give you pleasure?”
“Education is everything, is it not?” Still crouched, he flexed his fingers. “The touch of a man’s hand was the catalyst that brought down Troy.”
She suspected the feel of his hand would be her ruin, too.
“Let me begin with something simple to prove my point,” he said softly. “Let it be an exercise in the power of anticipation.”
He waited for her permission to begin.
“I’ll not stop until you demand it,” he warned her before caressing her cheek in slow, mesmerising circles.
The heat of his skin warmed her face and soothed her restless spirit. She closed her eyes briefly, finding solace in his touch. Tenderness was a potent drug for a lonely heart. Everything about this man was addictive.
“Relax,” came his whispered command.
Her shoulders sagged as if willed by the gods.
“I’ve never seen lips so plump,” he said, an undeniable hunger in his gaze as he traced the shape with his thumb. He worked closer to the seam, seeking entrance. “I’ll never forget how soft they were. You’d drunk wine before coming to the theatre. That, or you always taste like dark berries.”
“You’ll never know.”
His languid smile stole her breath. “There’s always a way to achieve one’s goal,” he said, penetrating the seam where her mouth was moist. He wet his thumb before taking it in his own mouth and sucking hard. “Hmm. I feel a thorough inspection is needed. But not today.”
Her heart pounded now.
Perhaps he saw the rapid beat of her pulse in her throat. Perhaps he knew the muscles in her abdomen were tight. That heat pooled between her thighs.
Exploring further, he drew featherlight fingers down over her lips and chin, down the column of her throat.
The hairs on her nape prickled. Tingles ran down her spine. She thought of halting his in-depth study, but the thrill of anticipation left her eager to know what he planned to do next.
He paused, his fingers lingering at the base of her throat, his brow rising in silent challenge.
“Is something wrong, Mr Chance?”
“Not at all.”
“Does that conclude the end of the lesson?”
“Not quite. Shall I continue?”
The answer should have been no, but she nodded.
Those dangerous digits moved again, trailing slowly southward, leaving a scorching path in their wake. His wicked blue eyes remained fixed on her, waiting for her to say stop.
He paused again when he reached her left breast.
She arched a brow, daring him to continue.
The pads of his fingers grazed her nipple.
She inhaled sharply. Not because she felt his touch through the layers of material or because lust had her in its powerful grip. The fire in his eyes stole her breath. The slight tremble of his fingers said these feelings were not one-sided. This wasn’t part of the game.
“I think that concludes the lesson for today, Mr Chance.”
A sensual hum escaped him. “Thank the Lord. You’re killing me, Miss Darrow.”
Eleanor smiled to herself as she gathered more gloves off the floor and rose to her feet. “I concede. A man might work miracles with his hands if his partner is willing.”
“A fact we may explore if you lie to me again, madam.”
“I won’t make the same mistake, sir,” she said, placing the gloves on the counter. They couldn’t be sold as new, but that was the least of her concerns.
“Mistakes are regrettable.” He rose and adjusted his trousers. “Nothing that happened between us a moment ago could be deemed so.”
Being careful not to lie, she said, “No, you did a superb job of proving your point. There’s a reason they call you the King of Hearts. I’m told you collect hearts and break them. I mean to guard mine with my life.”
“You, of all people, should know not to listen to idle gossip. Particularly when it comes from the mouth of Lady Lucille Bowman.” He did not give her an opportunity to refute the claim. “Where did you leave the book the villain placed in the coal shed?”
“Under the boards in my bedchamber.” Glad of a distraction, she dusted off her hands and beckoned him to follow her upstairs. She realised the room might be in a dreadful state, too. “Did you happen in there last night?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yes.”
