Poison or Protect
Page 20

This character flaw was a window of opportunity she should exploit… professionally. But instead, she found herself moving restlessly against him, kissing him deeply – with no ulterior purpose but to find out if his lips really were that soft.
They were and they parted slightly under hers, an invitation, should she choose to take it. Nothing more – no press of slavering tongue, no pull of hands. He did not even rub his hardness against her, although he must be desperate to do so. All her husbands had.
She pulled back and, in the spirit of being daring, asked him to explain. “You are not unaffected. Do you hold yourself in check because you think I will fly away like a startled bird? Or are you lazy about this kind of thing and prefer the lady does all the work?”
She felt his rumble of amusement, for her one hand was pressed against his naked chest. Surprised, she realized she had entwined her fingers in the soft hair there.
He let the laugh puff out. “Neither. I hold back for love of waiting. Na so I might charge in later – dinna mistake my meaning. When you are ready to tell me what you wish, I will give it to you. Simple as that. Dinna fret – I work hard if you put me to the task, Lady Villentia.”
Preshea’s grin was only slightly carnal. She loved his answer. A realization that turned her cold with fear. She dropped her hands and broke the moment. Horribly confused. What a terrifying – and tempting – man.
“Don’t be silly, Captain. I believe at this juncture you may call me by my Christian name.”
“I dinna know it, lass.”
“Nor I yours.”
“Gavin. Tis na all that much, but it was my father’s and it suits me well enough.”
She allowed a tiny smile. “It does that. I am Preshea.”
He grinned, a bright joyful thing. “Preshea. Perfect.”
* * *
It was perfect. She was perfect.
How had she known that it had to be she who kissed him?
Why bother with how she knew – she knew and she’d done it. And it was perfect. And I was her first. He smiled at that glimmer of susceptibility.
He wondered where they would go next. Would she invite him to her room? No, too soon, if ever. She was afraid, although not of him, not really. She was frightened of something he represented. Not one to admit to that, she might become cruel in recompense.
A challenge, but a bonnie one. Fortunately, Gavin was equal to a courtship where he could not demand with all the self-righteousness endemic to his sex. He preferred coaxing over insisting. He was optimistic – she evidently wanted him. Her breath had hitched and she had caressed him without realizing it. And she had kissed him a second time. He’d thought he would only warrant one before she fled. But there had been another, as if she were testing his resilience and her control over him. Glorious.
And, better still, she had not yet fled. Strong stuff in this wee warrior.
“I do not think this is the done thing, for you two to be here in such a way.” The voice was unexpected, querulous and breathy with no breath at all.
They had forgotten that there was one member of the Bicker-Harrow family guaranteed to be awake at this hour, with nothing better to do than drift about, looking for trouble.
“Formerly Connie.” Preshea pulled away.
I can call her Preshea now, in my head at least.
Gavin said, “I do apologize. You are correct. Such behavior is uncalled for.”
Formerly Connie was drifting, her thin arms crossed. “I’m no proper chaperone and this is neither the time nor the place for such carrying on.”
On the contrary, thought Gavin, ’tis both.
The ghost continued her lecture. “I’ve heard of assignations, but I hardly require a demonstration.” She acted as if she were a governess and not a virginal chit half their age and dead.
Gavin saw Preshea take offense. He interrupted before she might say something not rash but overly cutting. He doubted Preshea was ever rash, but they needed the ghost on their side. “Lady Villentia is my affianced. We’ve na made the matter public. You must na blame her. I persuaded her to come down here. I couldna bear to be parted from her a moment longer.”
The ghost was mollified. “Well, if that’s the truth of it.”
“It was naught more than the most chaste of kisses.”
The ghost bobbed as if in thought. “I did note that. I must admit to some wistfulness. I never got a first kiss myself.”
Preshea smiled. “Were it possible, I should recommend the captain. He is an excellent starter.”
The ghost, rather than taking offense at such a shocking offer, gave a tinkling laugh. “Young lovers. Too sweet. Yet in company, you pretend not to know one another.”
Preshea made good work of that opening. “It’s my father. He disapproves the match. We must keep it hidden until we can run away to Gretna Green.”
“Oh, how romantic.” The ghost clasped cloudy hands together. She was still very much a nice young lady, with all the Gothic notions of unrequited love to go alongside.
Gavin turned pleading eyes on Formerly Connie. “You will keep our secret, dear lass?”
The ghost straightened, as much as a wispy bit of aether given form could straighten. “I shall.”
“We will not embarrass you again by invading your solitude with our trysts.” Preshea took Gavin by the hand and led him firmly away.
Out of tether distance.
He followed.
Of course he followed. He would follow her anywhere she wished. He was horribly afraid, after very little acquaintance and two tentative kisses, that he was falling in love with her, which meant following was his only choice.