Page 16 of Lover
“What should I do to prevent you from forgetting my warnings?” I murmured, dragging a lazy gaze from her lips to the arms across her chest. “Throw you over my knee?”
I’d done it before. The results blissful for us both.
She shivered.
Do you remember, darling?I wanted to ask.Do you remember all the beautiful, unspeakable things we used to do to each other?
She looked away, the height of her cheeks darkening. Her eyes fell to my chest, her lips parting slightly. At any moment I was sure she would reach out and touch me.
“Or”—I leaned nearer, prepared to abandon the ledge—“maybe I should bend you over this table.”
Her reaction was a reward, and though she disguised it as scorn, I heard the desire in that sudden release of breath.
“You’re drunk,” she accused. “Your moral lesson is noted, but you can’t frighten me, Professor Hughes. I’m not a maiden from a folktale, and you wouldn’t have your way with me like a monster just to prove a point.”
I tilted my head, surprised at her fantastic ability to believe I was merely trying to shock her.
“Wouldn’t I?” I replied. Prepared to prove my intentions, I guided the cold whiskey glass to her neck, pressing it into the soft skin beneath her ear, watching the gooseflesh appear as a drop of condensation made a sensual trail downward until it crested her collarbone and slipped into the neck of her nightdress.
“Then do it,” she demanded, and it was a dare. She was asking me to show her how base I could be, to prove to her I was more than giving her a lesson, and I laughed because I adored it.
“With pleasure.”
As though I would kiss her, I bent my head, and to my surprise she raised her chin a near undetectable fraction, and Itormented her by lowering my head farther to run my tongue along the trail the water from the glass had made, giving her every opportunity to imagine my mouth upon other delicate parts. She stopped breathing, the pulse in her throat jumping.
Here I was in a moment I longed for, sure if I took her hand and guided her to my bed, she would not resist falling into it. I could satiate my unbounded need, and in the morning look into her beautiful eyes and know she didn’t see her husband, but an employer who had taken advantage.
“You don’t know the dangers of this game you’re playing, Millie,” I whispered, fresh anguish spreading through me like quick poison. She wasn’t aware of the risks, because no one had told her.
“Tell me what they are,” she breathed against my ear, and my heart splintered.
I retreated while I still had any sense to. The effort of it was herculean, and I drained the remaining whiskey for strength.
“Go back to your room, Miss Foxboro, and resist roaming this house at night. I won’t be responsible for what happens next time you find yourself inclined to wander,” I admonished her cruelly while taking up the decanter and pouring a fresh glass to drown my self-loathing in.
She said not a word, but turned on her heel and fled, dismissed and likely humiliated.
I wanted to fly after her, catch her in the hallway, and show her that my rejection was a falsehood, my desire was honest, and she was not a plaything to me. But it would only harm her further.
Giving way to the whiskey and my despair, I loosed a bellow of rage and threw the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered, the alcohol blazing into a small inferno, bright and furious, intending to consume, only to disappear up the chimney in an impotent cloud of black smoke.
CHAPTER 10
THE NEW DAY brought a raging headache and a fresh wave of wretchedness. My first inclination was to stay in bed, but nothing was going to right itself by doing that. I took plenty of time making myself presentable, washing away the lingering miasma of the alcohol I had overindulged in, dressing in the more casual style Millie had once preferred on me. I would need to make things right somehow or risk her quitting and trying to go back to Boston, which would complicate things beyond reason. Yet again, I endured a surge of aggravation for this convoluted pantomime making everyone out a fool and not helping Millie at all.
Assuming my wife would have no interest in seeing me, I skipped breakfast and remained sequestered in my chambers until Ms. Dillard came knocking on my door to alert me to Dr. Hannigan’s arrival. I’d forgotten I’d invited him to breakfast the day before and rushed to meet him in the library, cursing under my breath the entire way.
As expected, as soon as I entered, his sharp eyes were on me.
“What’s happened? Is Millie all right? Why didn’t you call me right away?”
“Why do you immediately suspect something’s gone awry?” I asked, though I was more impressed than dismayed by his keen senses.
“To be honest, I wouldn’t have guessed one way or another, but you resembled a man on his way to the executioner’s blockwhen you walked through the door, and I’ve known you long enough to recognize guilt when I see it. Out with it.”
“Hannigan, please,” I asked, feeling the headache returning. “She’s all right. She still has no idea who she is, despite my efforts.”
I paused.
