Page 7 of A Scandal Before Christmas
Staring into the flames of the fire, Lauren was so embroiled in her thoughts that the click of the door did not register.
The trailing of a forefinger down the nape of her neck, exposed by her upswept hair, alerted her that she wasn’t alone.
With a startled gasp, Lauren sank further into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides when she instinctively crossed her arms over bare breasts.
“Good morning, my sweet,” Theodore drawled, his hand curling into a light grip on her neck. “Did you sleep you well? I didn’t. Too many thoughts of you running through my mind, unfortunately.”
“Have you taken complete leave of your senses?” Lauren choked out. “Have you no regard for the scandal this could cause?” She thought her heart would pound out of her chest from the fright he just gave her. Thank goodness Anne added some rose oil to the bathwater. It clouded the water just enough that Lauren could retain a bit of her modesty.
Theodore stood beside the tub, his fingers caressing her nape as he stared down at her. His full lips quirked upward with a slight twist.
“No one else is about this early in the morning, and Anne told me she had no intention of returning for a while. I have the feeling she was encouraging me to check in on you.”
He was dressed for riding, although Lauren could not imagine anyone willing to venture out in such freezing temperatures. Wearing a pair of dark breeches, a white shirt, and a knee-high Hessians, he also carried a wool riding coat in the crook of his arm. She watched as he carelessly tossed it onto the same chair as her nightrail.
Her heart rate ratcheted with something suspiciously akin to desire when he teased her earlobe, the blunt ends of his fingernails grazing her flesh. “Please, Theo. You shouldn’t be here…”
“When we are wed, this will become part of our morning routine. I will play lady’s maid for you. I will gladly wash your hair, pour the oils in your bath. Cleanse your body, from your head to the tips of your toes. And everything in between.”
While he spoke, his fingers traveled from her earlobe to the slope of her shoulder, then down along the delicate line of her collarbone. Lauren sucked in a breath, sinking further into the water, but that did not deter him.
Pulling a sprig of mistletoe from a small pocket of his breeches, he dangled it over her forehead, then tucked it away when she frowned up at him. This mistletoe business was becoming quite ridiculous. Did he intend on carrying the blasted plant with him everywhere he went? Did he mean to back her into a corner at every turn with it?
Chuckling, Theodore moved closer and gripped her chin with his free hand. With gentle pressure, he forced her gaze to meet his. His blue eyes were so bright with promise that Lauren felt her heart squeeze in response even through her frustrated anger.
“I can show you more pleasure than you could ever imagine, my love, by simply touching you,” he murmured, fingers dancing between the exposed border of flesh and the silky skin beneath the water’s edge. “But I will not take from you what you are unwilling to give. Tell me to leave and I will go.”
The demand was on the very tip of her tongue, but the words died a quick death. Lauren could only swallow and gaze up at him, wondering what pleasures he spoke of. What delights could be experienced with a mere brush of his fingers?
The longer she remained mute, the more it appeared she wished him to stay.
“Lauren?” Theodore’s hand tightened on her chin, his thumb rising to graze her lower lip as though testing its softness.
Lauren had no idea what possessed her, she really didn’t, but her lips parted slightly as she stared into the wintery indigo depths of Theodore’s eyes. Her tongue darted out, swiping at his thumb in quick exploration before she let him push it further into the depths of her mouth.
Something very wicked and primal and unbearably wild roared to life inside her when she observed his hunger.
Yes, he will consume me, drown me in lust and want. I’m foolish enough to believe I can withstand the onslaught and not long for more.
Theodore’s eyes burned as he moved his thumb deeper until her tongue curled around it, and her mouth closed over it with an innocent understanding of what he wanted. So intent was Lauren on watching his eyes as they ignited into twin flames that she truly did not pay heed to his other hand until suddenly it was below the waterline. Touching her breasts. Smoothing the globes alternately with his palm, measuring and caressing until Lauren’s back arched the slightest bit, and her breasts broke the water’s surface.
A muscle ticked in Theodore’s clenched jaw, but his hand remained steady as he stroked her.
“A favor I will take this time.”
His words were a growled rumble that oddly enough vibrated inside her chest as if he’d cut her open and deposited them there.
Then his fingers plucked one taut, dusky rose nipple, quickly followed by the same treatment of the other, and Lauren moaned softly. Almost convulsively, she swallowed around his thumb, unable to stop herself from doing so again and again as he softly pinched and tweaked the pebbled, sensitive peaks of her breasts.
Pressure was building within her, sparking the nerves hidden behind the soft folds at the apex of her thighs. It was unbearable. She wanted him to touch her there. To thrust his fingers deep inside her and extinguish the raging fire.
It was torture. It was pleasure. It was everything she never realized she needed. Now she wanted it all, and in the midst of the whirlwind, she hated Theodore Hawthorne for awakening this hunger.
“You are so beautiful, Lauren.” Theodore’s voice was a gravelly mix of desire and awe. “I cannot wait for the day you are truly mine. How foolish you’ve been, keeping yourself from me.”
Lauren froze as if drenched by a bucket of cold water. Giving his thumb a sharp, little nip, she shoved him away at the same time.
Jerking away with a low growl, Theodore examined the tiny wound then sucked off the drop of blood. For a heartbeat, his eyes narrowed while he studied Lauren’s face, almost as if he couldn’t believe she’d snapped at him.
