Page 50 of Enticing Odds
“Even in my ignorance I would agree. Governance holds no appeal for me, my lady.”
“Of course it wouldn’t. You’re no greedy bastard, you’re a wee lamb.”
She placed a hand upon her cheek and regarded him fondly. Matthew’s stomach leaped. If only it were somehow possible. And yet, still she played her games with him. Perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?”
He shut his eyes, trying to will away his fantasy. It was impossible.
“That, I fear, would be terribly rude of me.”
She sighed in exasperation.
“I shall have to drag the suspense out somehow.” She stood up, bringing herself as close to him as she’d ever been. “If you will not play, I will force your hand.”
Matthew’s breath caught.
She studied him, her grin widening, bringing forth those lovely little dimples he so fancied. He very nearly smiled in return, but caught himself.
Only just.
“My lady,” he said, then swallowed. “We’ve been at this… impasse, if you will, for some time now, and—”
“Impasse? There’s no need for histrionics, Dr. Collier. It’s merely a dance.”
With that she breezed past him, her skirts swishing gently against his trouser leg as she glided toward the door.
“Coming?” she called lazily over her shoulder, as if she didn’t actually care whether he followed, or really, where he went in her house.
But that was far from the case, Matthew knew. He knew the only thing she wanted in this moment was him to heel.
So he dutifully followed her. What else was he to do? It was agony, allowing her to tease him, but it was more agonizing to be removed from her presence.
“Come along, Doctor,” she chirped as she drifted through the halls, keeping several paces ahead of him despite her shorter stride.
At last they came to the library, where she stopped before the massive pair of doors. She placed her hands upon both handles, then turned and flashed him a dazzling smile.
He wanted her, like he’d never wanted a woman before. Not like Harriet, who had seemed so innocent, so naïve. Not like any of the ladies on display in the pornographic material he regularly perused. But in a deeper way. He was desperate for her laughs, her smiles, her moans and cries as she came undone, her body lurching against his in pure, carnal need.
She threw open the doors.
“There. It’s yours.”
“I’m… I beg your pardon, I must have misheard you,” Matthew stuttered.
“Of course you didn’t. Your hearing is perfectly adequate. I’ve instructed all the household staff. You must avail yourself of Rowbotham House’s library whenever you wish.”
Matthew tried to open his mouth to respond, but found that he couldn’t. He was paralyzed.
A library like this, at his disposal, whenever he wished.
Lady Caplin stepped over the threshold, then turned and beckoned for him to do the same. He followed, hypnotized in her wake. She was a siren, a gorgeous, ethereal being, radiating a capricious sort of power that could fulfill his every desire… or be his undoing. He stumbled toward a shelf, reaching up to run his fingers along the spines, the feel of the leather bindings reassuring him that he wasn’t dreaming.
“I visited the strangest little shop near the docks, searching for something unusual that might thrill you. Indeed, I’d wager you would find nearly anything in their collection to be utterly fascinating. But it all seemed so…” She paused, and hummed. When she spoke again her voice was lower, almost raspy. “When I had the occasion to speak with Mrs. Rickard, I realized nothing would suit you better than a book, except perhaps…” She sauntered up to him, her slim hand selecting a book from the shelf without looking. “An entire library of them.”
She offered him the volume she had pulled. He took it, the world around them fading away as he did. Nothing existed but the two of them, and this gorgeous, awe-inspiring temple of knowledge.
He looked down at the book.
