was an interesting trick, Mr. Burke … and an illuminating demonstration. But you understand now why I must present myself a certain way in public? Why I cannot flirt or flaunt my bosom, or brag about the amount of my inheritance? If I do those things, I will not be treated like the other women who do them. I won’t be laughed off or called silly, simpering, or gauche. The names they will label me with would be far worse. My spotless reputation is all I have. It is the one thing that allows me to move among society with any sort of respectability.”
Nick gathered the cards he’d just plucked from the floor and sifted them into order, before stashing them back in his pocket.
“Of course, I understand. We will simply think up other ways to force Lewes to see you as something other than the sister of his friend. I think we are off to a good start already.”
“Indeed, Mr. Burke.”
Nick draped an arm along the back of the loveseat, “Come, goddess … may we dispense with the formalities now? At least, in private. If we are to be co-conspirators, we can very well use one another’s first names.” He trailed his first finger idly along the back of her arm awaiting her response.
Calliope stiffened in reaction to his touch, and Nick froze, the pad of his finger hovering at her elbow. The gesture had seemed completely harmless, done only because if he wasn’t doing something with his hands he became restless. He’d acted without thinking, without realizing the effect it would have on him.
Every hair on his body seemed to stand on end, reacting to an invisible current flowing from where he touched her, to where the smooth, slender arm broke out in gooseflesh. The sound of her breathing had halted, her large eyes widening. He drowned in those deep, dark eyes, searching for some hint, some inkling of an answering response in her.
It wasn’t as if he’d never touched her before. Hell, he’d had every inch of her pressed against him, had filled his palms with the firm globes of her buttocks. Yet, that sensitive, bared patch of skin at the back of her arm felt like the softest thing he’d ever touched.
“Very well,” she said, her sudden words jolting him back to his senses.
Nick curled his hand into a fist and pulled it away, relieved that she’d spoken when she had. Another moment of silent staring, and he would have done something unforgivably stupid.
“Dominick,” she added with a slight nod.
His lips ticked with a smile that never fully formed. How could he grin when there was nothing light or humorous about what had just happened? Odd, how such innocent contact had overwhelmed him in a way their first touch had not. Perhaps because he’d been too drunk that night, too intent on seduction and securing his next influx of funds to realize that she’d never been touched.
Because, had he known that, he might have taken the time to notice what he readily saw now—that she was like a violin string wound taut, primed and yearning and just waiting for the right touch to make her sing. He could make her sing. He would kiss and nibble and lick and fuck a range of sounds from deep within her throat. He could make her forget the very existence of Martin Lewes.
Fuck.
He shot to his feet, pacing away from her and willing the erection in his breeches to disappear. A whore … that was what he needed. Tonight, he would find one and slake his lust. It had been weeks since he’d last been with a woman, and that was his problem. Calliope was beautiful, but so were countless other women. He’d reacted to her as he might have anyone else who smelled so sweet and sat so close and had such full, kissable lips.
“I am ready!”
He whirled to find the Countess of Hastings entering the room, a jaunty hat perched on her head and her walking dress covered with a light spencer. She held similar effects for Calliope, who stood at the sight of her sister with one hand pressed to her belly.
“So are we,” she replied, her words coming out breathless and strained.
She darted a glance at Nick from the corner of her eye, but seemed determined not to stare. Was it just him, or did she look guilty, as if they’d nearly been caught doing something they shouldn’t? He might have scoffed at such a