Page 37 of From London, With Love
Unlike their first embrace, Gideon did not take. Nor did he demand. Every stroke of his tongue was an invitation, his hands playing a masterful tune on her body. He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks, her lips, her chin. The trace of his fingertips grazed their way down the column of her throat as if he was slowly learning every inch of her.
It surprised her to learn that such mere touches—feather light and upon her neck, no less—drove a shiver all the way through her.
Alexandra felt soft and heavy, her skin flushing with heat. She wanted to lean into him. All the way in. To rub herself against the soft wool of his coat and perhaps slide her hands beneath it—
And why not?
She grew daring, earning the soft intake of breath from him as she explored. Every inch of him was firm with muscle. She couldn’t help herself. Capturing his mouth, she started tugging at his shirt, wanting to run her nails across his skin, wanting to linger in the heat that welled beneath his flesh.
“Alexa.”
She kissed the protest away. Obliteration. That was all she sought. Let it all sweep away, hazy on the river of desire coursing through her.
“Alexa.” Gideon broke free, thrusting one hand against the door at her back in order to restrain himself. His breathing came hot and heavy, and desire darkened his eyes. “What has brought this on?”
“Perhaps I’m tired of enduring. Perhaps I want tofeel.”
He avoided her grasp and captured her hand, nuzzling at her fingers. “Alexa. Alexa. Stop. Slow down.”
She didn’t want to slow. She wanted obliteration.
But he captured her face between his callused palms and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I know you,” he whispered. “Something else is driving this.”
She pushed away from him, pacing the room in a swirl of skirts. “Must it be anything more than lust?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Alexandra’s fingers curled into a fist. “I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me.”
“My queen does not always get what she desires.”
Sometimes she wanted to scream. “Clearly.” Pacing across the rug, she rubbed both hands down the silk of her skirts. “What do you suggest instead?”
“Talk to me,” he insisted, crossing to the shelves and reaching for the chess set they often played with. “And then we shall negotiate terms on how far the night will go.”
How far…?
Alexandra paused. She wanted to burst with frustration. “You are the most vexing man,” she sputtered.
Gideon cocked his head. “I am a patient man. Not a vexing one. And you are not ready for more between us. Not like this. I want you, Alexandra. And I will have you. But I know your moods, and I will not be mere distraction for whatever is plaguing you. If you do not wish to discuss it, then there are other means to pass the time. Black or white?”
“White, curse you.”
She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that perhaps he was right.
“As you wish.”
Chapter 11
Hours ticked past, and her gaze kept shifting to the clock impatiently.
Gideon’s heated gaze lifted to hers as he took his king and set it directly to the side of her queen. He seemed to be enjoying making her wait. “King takes queen.”
Alexandra swept her palm across the board, letting all the remaining pieces tumble to the floor. “I think the issue is clearly that thiskingis not taking this queen.”
He smiled faintly as he poured himself another glass of cordial. He knew her abstemious nature and refused to drink in front of her. “I wouldn’t presume. I am no king, my dear.”
“You seem remarkably unambitious for someone who has a queen waiting upon him.”
