Page 26 of A Midwinter Wager

Chapter 16

Cesca snuggledinto the crook of Fitz’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder. His body was hot, firm and comforting—but dangerous too, with that masculine allure which had been distracting her all evening.

Her hand stole across his stomach, enjoying the firm plane of flesh, straying, just briefly, to run a finger over the muscle below his rib cage. So strangely foreign, forbidden—and yet so familiar. How many times had she imagined this moment, and how long could she make it last?

“I’ve missed you so much.” She sighed, flexing her hand against his waist. “How could Alicia have been so cruel to us both? She was only fooling herself.”

“I thought her foolish too,” he responded, and she loved the way his voice vibrated through his body. She was heating up very nicely now—he was a million times better than a warming pan.

“At first I put her behavior down to her youth,” he went on. “She had a crush on me and acted upon it without thinking what harm it might do to others.”

“She became even more selfish after her mama died. I felt sorry for her, as did Papa I think, which is why we put up with it.”

“Indulging someone’s selfishness is never wise,” he agreed. “Much as I hate to speak ill of others, I find your stepsister small-minded, scheming and vicious. She has made us utterly miserable.”

“I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder to persuade Papa.” Cesca ran her hand up to his shoulder, resting her arm across his chest and holding him closer.

“So should I.” He kissed her hair again, with a tenderness that almost undid her. “I should have stood up to him too, and to my own father. But since his stroke, he’s been irascible and illogical, making it impossible to bargain with him. I would have felt so much guilt, bringing shame upon the family at such a time. Nonetheless, I ought—”

She brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a finger against his lips, saying, “Hush. I don’t blame you for anything.”

He caught her hand and kissed the tip of each finger before replacing it on his chest. “I forbid you to feel sorry for me. Anyway, I have a plan to make all right again.”

“You do?” She smiled to herself, breathing in the glorious scent of his body.

"Yes. As soon as the roads are passable, I'm going to carry you off and marry you. We've lost six months already. I don't intend to lose any more."

Shaken out of her sensual stupor, she pushed up on her elbow so she could look into his face. “You’re serious?”

The flicker of the candle was reflected in his eyes, a deep, tiny flame that danced, and entranced her. His beautiful mouth was a hard line as he gave a single nod, and gazed at her, waiting for her reaction.

“There’ll still be our fathers to deal with,” she said anxiously.

“I know. But as soon as they have their first grandchild sitting on their knee, they’ll soften their hearts toward us, I guarantee. Could you cope with the scandal? Could you bear leading a less opulent life? For I might be disinherited. We’d have to live on my army pay, and you might find yourself following me and the regiment all over Europe. Mayhap even to India.”

“India would be fascinating. And though I know it would disappoint Papa, I’d be glad to travel with you. Being stuck at home is so stultifying. I’d make sure he had a good nurse to dress his gouty foot before I went, of course.”

“That should have been Alicia’s job too but she never lifted a finger to help, did she? You, on the other hand, have been a positive saint. But you have a right to a life of your own now, and I intend to give you that.”

Oh, how splendid it was to be lying here with Fitz, listening to his words of praise, his words of hope! But there was something else happening too. The feel of his hot, muscular body beneath her subtly exploring hand ignited little points of flame all over her skin. How would it feel to have his hand exploring her? It was a deliciously wicked thought.

She bit her lip to steady herself. What would happen if she were to ask him, outright, if he wanted her? “You mentioned grandchildren. But I assume we’ll have to wait until our wedding night.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “To all intents and purposes, this is our wedding night. If anyone were to catch us like this, there’d be no need to elope.”

Then why wait at all? As far as she was concerned, there couldn’t be a better moment.

“Are… I mean, can I hope that you’re interested in me in… er… that way?” she asked.

He laughed again, a glorious sound. “Sweet little innocent! Tell me—does this feel like disinterest to you?”

He captured her hand again and pressed it against his lower abdomen, where it encountered something rock-hard and potent. Shock mingled with wonderment, and her throat was too dry to answer.

“It’s all right,” he said, removing his hand. “It’s just an indication of how damned long I’ve remained celibate. Since my Cambridge days, in fact. There’s only one woman in the world I want, now and forever. And she’s in my arms at this very moment. I couldn’t be happier.”

Nor could she. Well, perhaps just a little happier. There were certain aspects of his body she was extremely interested in, which she was sure she’d enjoy learning about enormously. She hadn’t removed her hand from his erection yet and wondered if he’d noticed.

“Tonight’s little escapade has proved a blessing in disguise,” he continued. “Seeing you, being with you, has given me the strength I need to take the next step. We must be together, Cesca. I saw you flirting tonight and couldn’t bear it. When we marry, I beg you will never flirt with another man, or I might have to call him out.”

“Such jealousy!” she said, smiling. “I’ll have to flirt frequently then and keep you on your toes.”

A growl rumbled through his chest, and the next instant, she was beneath him, trapped by his body. “Don’t tease me,” he admonished, “or I’ll show you what happens when you tease a man beyond bearing.”

“I’m intrigued.” Being beneath him, experiencing his latent power, shot arrows of anticipation right through her. Her breath went shallow.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tempt me. It would be wicked to take advantage of this situation.”

She thought about this for a moment, then said, “But if you made love to me, it would ensure I remained true to you. I couldn’t possibly entertain the idea of setting my cap at another man if you’d already made me yours.”

What had happened to polite, biddable Miss Francesca Heathcote? This other self, this primal being inside her, had emerged like a butterfly from a chrysalis. This new side of her ached to explore the delights Fitz could offer.

“So wicked,” he chided, then leaned his head down and nipped at her lower lip. “You’re asking me to make love to you?”

She blinked at him. “Only if you think you can manage it,” she teased.

"Damn you, woman," he exclaimed and lowered his head.