Page 45 of His Wicked Secret
“I did,” she admitted, feeling a little better.
Jonathan escorted her to her bedchamber, and she was too exhausted to tell him he shouldn’t come inside. Frankly, she was glad for the company.
They set the plates on the table by her bedside, and Jonathan stoked the fire. Then he removed his coat and laid it over the back of the chair. There was something in the look he gave that stilled her, an emotion she couldn’t read, and yet she knew everything was going to change tonight if he stayed.
“Eat. You need not wait on me,” he encouraged in a gentle voice that surprised her. He was always doing that, surprising her. She had a difficult time rationalizing his cool aloofness against this gentle thoughtfulness.
“I believe I’m too tired to play your games tonight. Why did you come here?”
“To the house, the party, or to your bedchamber?” He approached the bed and took his plate of food. She scooted over, and he sat down beside her, resting his plate on his thighs. It was rather tricky not to look at him. He truly was a fine specimen of a man.
“Why did you come to the party?”
He looked ahead at the fire, not her. “I promised you lessons, and this was a convenient way to keep my word.”
The lessons. Of course. Her heart twinged. She’d been so hopeful that he’d come for other reasons.
“The lessons could have waited.”
“They were important to you, or so I thought, so I saw no point in waiting.” He ate a few bites of his turkey before speaking again. “What is your favorite color?”
She stared at him. Was he joking?
“Your favorite color. What is it?”
“I honestly don’t have a favorite. For clothes there are several colors that favor my skin and hair, so I wear them more. Other colors I find are best suited for households or for displays. But I like all colors. Well, not all. Yellows aren’t so pleasant, nor are browns, though some can be quite attractive under the right light.” She paused when she realized she was prattling on about colors. And then she saw his face. He was smiling at her. What on earth for?
“Why is that so terribly amusing?”
“You’re normally such a decisive creature. The fact that you cannot choose something so simple as a favorite color is highly amusing.”
She glared at him and set her empty plate on the table at the side of her bed.
“The question is flawed at its core. The value of a color varies depending on the situation. One does not need a favorite.”
“I have a few favorite colors myself.” His voice lowered to a whisper as he reached out to caress her cheek. “The honey brown of your eyes, for example…or the pink rosebud of your lips. The alabaster of your skin.”
Audrey leaned into him. She was being lulled into a spell by his words and his touch, and she was too tired to fight her desire for him.
“See, you don’t have a favorite either,” she whispered as their eyes met.
“I have too many favorites. There’s quite a difference.”
A little shiver fluttered through her.I could have this small comfort, could I not? Surely fate will let me have this, if I am not destined for marital bliss?
He trailed his fingers down her throat and traced light patterns on her collarbone, leaning forward. Before their lips met, she saw a devilish and playful merriment light up his eyes. Then his mouth covered hers, and she was shocked by her own desire to respond. She had sworn not to let him affect her so, but she now realized that was as impossible as harnessing the wind. She would never stop wanting him.
13
Jonathan wound his arms around Audrey, pulling her to him. She tasted so sweet, and he knew he was making a dangerous move by kissing her now. The last thing he wanted was to make her regret being with him. He had no title and only a small estate to offer, yet she was the daughter of a viscount. Audrey acted quite forward in her thinking, but he didn’t trust that if it came down between her place in society and love that she would choose him.
And yet he couldn’t stop kissing her. She gave a soft purr that made him rigid with need. He wanted to see her come apart in his arms as she had that night at the Midnight Garden. He’d been brave enough to touch her then, to show her what could exist between them. To do wicked things without truly compromising her. He’d seen the startled look of dazed pleasure on her, and it had nearly destroyed him with desire. Audrey in the throes of passion had been perhaps the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.
His kisses turned soft, then hard, then soft again as he explored her in ways he’d only fantasized about. Their lips parted briefly, and he tried to catch his breath.
“Please, don’t stop.” Her whisper was a ragged pant that set his blood on fire. Surprise fluttered through him. It was almost too good to be true.
“You don’t want me to stop?” He nuzzled his nose against hers. She smiled up at him, making him feel like a king.
