Page 71 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
“They don’t, but by the time you get to it, everything tastes better, every aspect of life seems vastly improved.” He lifted the tankard to his lips and, mesmerized, she watched his throat muscles work. He must have drained half the contents when he finally moved it away from his mouth. She didn’t want to contemplate that she was actually jealous of the pewter because his lips had closed over it. “We’ll take it with us,” he said, leading her back outside.
She took another sip and another, striving to find the portion that would finally be tasty. The odd thing was that it made her body feel warm and snuggly, and eventually she didn’t care about the taste. She liked the way she felt after a sip.
Kipwick never would have offered her ale, never would have even thought to let her sample it. Ladies might drink a glass of wine or champagne, a spot of brandy perhaps, but they certainly didn’t indulge in something as crass as beer or ale.
“Don’t judge ale as a whole too harshly,” he said. “My sister has better offerings.”
The tavern owner. “What is the name of her tavern?”
“The Mermaid and Unicorn. Gillie’s always had a whimsical bent.”
“I’d like to meet her sometime.”
He studied her, his gaze intense. “I could arrange that.”
It would be another excuse to be in his company. How many was she willing to make? A thousand perhaps. Every aspect of him fascinated her. “I’d like that.”
Her guardians wouldn’t. It would no doubt involve sneaking out again. But she didn’t want to have another clandestine meeting with him. She wanted him to call on her properly.
“We’ll discuss it later,” he said.
With a nod, she turned her attention to her surroundings. It didn’t look that much different from when she’d been here before, at least at first glance. Yet the atmosphere was very distinctive. The ladies—and she was being kind and generous to call them such—wore revealing frocks. If one were to sneeze, her breasts would no doubt pop out from behind the cloth. Yet they seemed perfectly comfortable with being so exposed, and the men, based upon their ogles that made her skin crawl, seemed to enjoy the view immensely. She wouldn’t want them to look at her in the same leering manner.
On the stage where before a soprano had filled the night with love songs, now a gent sang a ribald tune with crude words that referred to mating. It didn’t sound romantic at all. As a matter of fact, she wondered why any woman would want to engage in such sport when it was made to appear so animalistic, so barbaric, so tawdry.
She saw a man and woman, deep within the shadows, her back against a tree, the man’s hips cavorting—
Swinging around, she found her cheek pressed against Mick’s chest; his arms came around her in a protective embrace. “They are not doing what I think they’re doing.”
“Depends what you think they’re doing.”
When he set his mind to it, the man could be quite irritating. “I thought it happened in a bed.”
“It can happen anywhere—a bed, a chair, the floor.”
“Horizontal. I thought it a horizontal endeavor.” Having never discussed so intimate an act with anyone, she couldn’t believe she said that to him.
“Horizontal, vertical, sitting, standing, kneeling . . . the positions are limited only by the imagination.”
And she suspected he’d imagined and engaged in them all. She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to contemplate him taking a woman against a tree like a barbarian.
“What did you think to find here, Aslyn?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Drunkenness mostly.”
“Well, there is certainly that. Sip your ale.”
He took a long swallow of his. It was such a masculine endeavor. It fascinated her to watch him. His hand fairly dwarfed the mug, would dwarf intimate portions of her if he were to ever touch them. Not that he would, not that she would allow him to take such liberties. She sipped her brew. He was correct. It did taste better the more one drank. Or perhaps it had killed her ability to taste, and nothing would ever taste right again.
She began to wonder what she’d do if Kip crossed paths with her here, for surely he would recognize her. “What if we run into Kipwick?”
“We won’t.”
His certainty surprised her. “Do you know where he is?”
“There are a few places where he might be.”
“Because they provide gambling?”
