Page 108 of A Much Maligned Miss

It was late by the time Gervaise returned to the gin palace. He half hoped Caroline might be asleep so he could avoid the confrontation he could feel simmering between them. Of course, the other half of him was spoiling for the inevitable fight.

After viewing the provocative painting in the bar, he made his way upstairs and let himself into their rooms where he found the remains of her supper on the dining table. It appeared she had made do with some kind of salted beef and rye bread while he had dined in at one of his exclusive clubs.

His own meal had been excellent, but he had picked at it in a desultory fashion, scarcely doing it justice. The fact was that he would rather eat inferior fare if it meant he could enjoy her presence at his table. Even when he was quite out of temper with her, he would still choose her company over his own comfort.

The realization was an unwelcome one in the light of her repeated rejection. His gut twisted. This situation was becoming quite intolerable. He paused on the threshold of the dressing room. Perhaps he had been going about this all wrong? Maybe he needed a different approach altogether. He undressed thoughtfully and then made his way into the bedroom.

Caroline was not asleep. Instead, she was propped up on pillows, reading her book. The cats lay curled around each other in front of the fire. “Ah, here you are finally!” she commented cheerfully. “You are late today, Gervaise.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, making his way over to the washstand where she had left him half a jug of tepid water.

“You must have been met with lots of interest in your gambling club.”

“Mmmmm.” He cast a look over his shoulder before picking up the soap. She was peering over the top of her book at him.

“To stay out so late, I mean,” she pressed when he was not forthcoming. “You’ve never done that before.”

“No, I haven’t,” he agreed conversationally. “But if you insist we remain in this frankly ridiculous arrangement, then things are going to start changing around here.”

“Oh?” She lowered her book. “In what way?”

“Well, I’m going to damn well start treating you like my mistress and see how you like that.”

Caroline regarded him thoughtfully. “You mean, you have not been already?”

“No, decidedly I have not,” he replied shortly.

She nodded slowly. “Well, that seems only fair,” she conceded.

“Right,” he said, a hint of grimness entering his voice. “So long as you’re prepared for that.”

“I will be,” she assured him.

“I hope so.”

“You may be sure of it, my lord.”

He gritted his teeth. “Let’s start tonight, then, shall we?” he said, stripping off the last of his clothes and flinging them down onto a chair.

Caroline calmly set aside her book. “Should I put on my new nightgown, then?” she asked, gazing down at what she wore, namely his spare nightshirt.

“Oh, I think we can dispense with nightgowns altogether,” he answered coolly.

Instead of bristling at such cavalier treatment, Caroline sat up and pulled the fine lawn garment over her head, dropping it over the side of the bed. Gervaise regarded her with a good deal more heat than the situation really called for. The bedsheets still covered her lower portion. His excitement was pathetic. Bared breasts should not wreak such havoc with him, however hard her rosy nipples might be.

He took a deep breath and stiffened his resolve. Miss Halperston was in dire need of a lesson, and he was going to give it to her. He crossed the room, climbing onto the bed. He did not bother getting under the covers. She was hardly deserving of such consideration. “Come here,” he said, letting his legs fall open and patting his thigh.

He was already half-hard and eager to mete out her instruction. It was high time she learned the difference between an indulgent lover and an indifferent taskmaster. Well…perhaps indifferent was pushing it, but he could certainly be less mindful of her modesty and upbringing.

Before he could tell her to crawl across the bed to him, she was clambering into his lap and sliding her legs under the covers. He waited for her to right herself when he really ought to tell her to dispense with the bedsheets altogether. He was disgustingly lenient where she was concerned, though to be fair, he did not want her to actually catch a chill.

Once she had everything arranged to her satisfaction, she turned over onto her stomach and wriggled down the bed. Gervaise caught his breath as she placed her palms on his thighs and tipped forward to kiss his stomach. “I like this line of hair you have here,” she said admiringly. One hand slid across his hip to follow it down with her fingers. “Do all men have this?”

He cleared his throat. “I believe so.”

Her gaze briefly met his own but then returned to his cock as though fascinated by the sight of it hardening before her eyes. “Oh, Gervaise,” she breathed in wonderment. “May I…?”

Oh Christ. “Yes,” he answered in a strangled voice, his plan all but flying out of the window. He watched as she reached for him, taking a firm but careful hold of his shaft and caressing it lightly with a rub of her thumb. “You’re so good-looking, Gervaise,” she marveled. “Even your cock is handsome.”