She gripped his shoulders, more to keep from collapsing into a boneless heap at his feet than anything else. His fingers were plucking at her nipple now…oh, heavens. Lower down, some sort of fluid seeped into the hair of her
mons veneris,
and the flesh beneath it grew tingly and hot.
So
this
was what seduction felt like, this…this boiling need to have his hands on her breasts, her nipples…on the tight, aching place between her legs…
And she'd told him she was immune to such temptations?
No wonder he'd laughed at her.
His mouth sought hers again, kissing her so thoroughly that she didn't notice where his other hand was headed until it slid down her gown to between her legs. But when he rubbed her
mons veneris
through the layers of fabric, and she instinctively arched into his hand, she knew she was in deep, deep trouble.
Because it was the most exquisite thing she'd ever felt. With expert care, he stroked her down where her body had grown tense with the urge to be touched and now began to throb with the thrill of his scandalous caresses. His hands were all over her, thumbing her nipple above, fondling her through her gown below. A whimper escaped her before she could swallow it, and his answer was to cup her fully between the legs, so fully she felt sure he would feel—
She struggled to free herself. "Please, Anthony. If you keep touching me like that, my gown will have a damp spot, and I have no other gown here to change into."
"A damp spot?" After a second, he chuckled. "Ah, yes, a damp spot. Only you would think of such a practicality at a time like this."
"I have no choice."
"There's a way to avoid a 'damp spot." He stopped caressing her below, but only to inch her gown up her legs. "Besides, we're not done with our lesson."
"Stop that!" she cried, catching hold of his hand. "I can't risk losing my teaching position. If anyone were to find us together here— "
"They won't," he rasped, though he didn't pull his hand free.
"How can you be sure?"
"The door is closed, we'll hear them coming long before they reach us, and the space under your desk is large enough to hide two people."
The way he'd thought it out gave her pause, yet she didn't resist his fondling of her breast. "I take it you've done this sort of thing before," she breathed.
"Once or twice."
"While trying to avoid jealous husbands?"
He chuckled. "Only if they rose from the grave. I prefer widows, remember?"
"Then why do you want to seduce me?"
He skimmed openmouthed kisses along her cheek. "Why do you want to change the terms of our agreement?"
She jerked back to stare at him, then saw the hint of calculation in his eyes before he swiftly masked it.
Her throat tightened with a sudden raw pain. She'd been right all along. He didn't believe her reasons for wanting the nitrous oxide party. He was only touching and kissing her to make her confess the truth.
And he'd very nearly succeeded in lulling her into forgetfulness.
With a strength borne of anger, she shoved him away from her. "I told you why," she said as he staggered back, taken by surprise. "And this lesson is over." Quickly, she skittered around the desk, eager to put it between them before he could catch her again.
"Oh no, you don't." A dark flush rose over his cheeks as he stalked her, the need in his face purely bestial. "We're not done. Not until I see you reach the pinnacle of your pleasure."
"As if you care about that." She circled the desk to avoid him. "You believe I'm lying about why I want the party and think if you seduce me, I'll tell you the secrets I don't have. That's why you're really doing this."
Though he uttered a rough laugh, his jaw's rigidity revealed his anger. "Is it?"
"What other reason could you possibly have for attempting to bed me?"
"You'd be surprised." His hard gaze skated down her. "Or perhaps you wouldn't. But either way, I mean to learn your secrets, sweetheart. And that's not all. Oh, no."
With eyes burning a hot blue, he took in her parted lips, her rising and falling breasts, and the trembling hands she tried to hide behind her skirts. He bent to plant his hands on the desk between them, so close to her that she stepped back with a gasp.
"I mean to have everything, you see," he growled. "I mean to watch you reach for your release in my arms, and I mean to be the one to give it to you."
"Why?"
"Because once you taste true passion, you'll crave it every day and night until Saturday, knowing you can only taste it again in my bed. And then I'll have you exactly where I want you."
"I'll
never
share your bed," she said hoarsely, hoping she could hold to that vow when his every word struck an answering chord deep inside her. "It's time for you to leave, Lord Norcourt. I suggest you return to the stables until I make my appearance outside."
"I'm not leaving until we've finished the lesson," he said, half growl, half threat.
"Then
I'm
leaving."
She darted for the entrance. Swift as a hawk, he lunged, catching her at the door, pinning her against it. With fear gripping her, she drove her elbow into his ribs hard enough to make him grunt and fall back.
In that instant, she had the door open. She was halfway out when he cried, "Wait!"
She turned to glare at him, fully prepared to fight.
"We're not done, sweetheart," he vowed. "Run, if you like, but I
will
catch up to you eventually, and we
will
finish our lesson. Or you won't get your party this Saturday."
"Fine, we'll have your lesson," she countered, only too aware of the delicate game she played. "But later, in a safer place, at a time that
I
choose. And that's
if
you can get outside without rousing suspicions."
Hurrying to the stairs, she scurried down until she was out of sight of both the upper and the lower floors. Then she paused in the stairwell to smooth her skirts, straighten her hair, and calm the wild pounding of her heart.
It had been a narrow escape. She'd never seen him like that— ruthlessly intent on getting what he wanted.
Nor had she guessed it would have the unsettling effect of making her want to throw caution aside and let him do as he would with her. Though the throbbing in her breasts and lower down had dimmed, the ache lay just beneath the surface, like an itch needing to be scratched.
Once you taste true passion, you'll crave it every day and night until Saturday, knowing you can only taste it again in my bed. And then I'll have you exactly where I want you.
She only prayed she could prove him wrong.
Chapter Nine
Dear Charlotte,
I do hope you know what you're doing. Men like Lord Norcourt aren't as easy to manage as you think. If you're so curious about the viscount, why not ask your friend Godwin about him? Godwin's sister is rumored to have been Norcourt's mistress before she married the second time. She would know his character better than anyone.
Your concerned cousin,
Michael
I
t took every jot of his will to keep Anthony from running after Madeline. But she was right— this was neither the time nor place for seduction. She couldn't help him if he landed her in trouble with her employer.
And yet…
When he spoke of her craving him, it was
him
doing the craving. He'd dreamed of her last night. He never slept well alone anyway, but last night was worse than usual, full of fitful, erotic dreams in which she promised to give him his every desire.
He'd awakened at dawn already pleasuring himself, and even that hadn't been enough. Eager to see her, he'd come directly here. He'd told himself it was so he could get answers out of her, so he could make sure her hidden scheme couldn't ruin his chances of gaining Tessa.
He'd lied.
What he'd really wanted was to bed her. And he'd almost done it, too, risking both their aims.
Good God, the woman had a frightening ability to bring out the beast in him. Look at him— standing here like a racing Thoroughbred stopped dead in its tracks, his heart pounding, his blood roaring in his ears, and his bad boy straining the seams of his riding breeches.
He'd spent a lifetime fighting to cage the animal in him, to keep himself from being a slave to his appetites. It had taken years to learn how to rein in his lust until the right moment, how to bring a woman to the point where she couldn't do without him before he took her.
One kiss from Madeline, and all that control vanished. With
her,
there was no finesse, no façade of the gentleman, no ability to shut off his appetite when he was done, the way he could with other women.
The second he'd kissed her, his control had begun to erode, until the very end, when his need had so consumed him that when she'd tried to leave, he'd nearly stopped her by force. She would be wary of him from now on, and who could blame her?
The worst part was, he still hadn't accomplished his original purpose. All he knew was that she wanted the party, and now she wanted it sooner. But
why
was still a mystery.
She
was still a mystery, damn her.
Why do you want to seduce me?
Her pointed question jangled in Anthony's head. This was supposed to have been simple— tempt the chit into unveiling her secrets, so she couldn't refuse to support Tessa's enrollment if something should go wrong with the party. But every time he thought he'd unveiled one, the mystery deepened.
He paced the classroom, fighting for mastery over his body, but he kept remembering the look on her face when he'd cupped her soft breast. He would swear she'd never had a man do that to her before. Yet if that were so, why let him go so far? Was she experienced or no?
She could be just experienced enough to know that a seeming innocence would draw him in. And it was working, too, because with every unanswered question, he grew more entranced by her. It was insanity. He wouldn't stand for it. One way or the other, he would find out what she was about, even if he had to go behind her back and start interrogating her students.
Or Mrs. Harris.
He considered that a moment. The widow was every bit as clever as Madeline. If she thought he was interested in her teacher for whatever reason, she would put a quick end to this bargain. Did he dare risk it?
In the end, the decision was taken out of his hands. By the time he'd regained control of himself enough to join the others outside, no seats were left in the carriages except in the open landau of Mrs. Harris herself. Since she'd made the assignments, she clearly had wanted him there.
Given that Mrs. Harris liked him about as much as he liked her, he could only guess that he was riding in her carriage along with two of her pupils because she wanted to observe his behavior firsthand.
Fine, let her observe whatever she pleased. Perhaps she'd be so caught up in "observing" that he'd finally get a chance to find out more about Madeline.
Pasting an ingratiating smile on his face, he climbed into the landau and vowed to watch every word. His machinations on Tessa's behalf would come to naught if Mrs. Harris decided he wasn't to be trusted.
Unfortunately, Miss Seton sat beside him, and she seemed determined to flirt. He was sure the headmistress chalked up a mark against him for every one of the girl's coy remarks. At least Mrs. Harris couldn't see how Miss Bancroft, who sat beside her, blushed furiously every time he even glanced at the poor girl.
God save him, he hoped Tessa was more sensible than these two, or he'd be beating the scoundrels off her at every ball.
"It was very good of you to come with us today, Lord Norcourt," Miss Bancroft said, apparently deciding that Miss Seton shouldn't have
all
the fun. "You must have many more important things to do."
He ignored Mrs. Harris's snort. "I had intended to spend today at my estate, but it will keep until tomorrow. This is more important. When my niece Tessa starts here after Easter, I'll want her to learn the same things I'm teaching you. It won't do for her to go into society, only to be plucked up by some rogue." He shot the headmistress a direct glance. "Don't you agree, Mrs. Harris?"
"If I do my job properly, your niece won't be susceptible to rogues at all, sir, with or without your lessons."
Her skepticism inexplicably irritated him. "Forgive me, madam, but your girls don't even know how to recognize a rogue unless he's leering at them or asking pointed questions about their dowries."
"That's not true!" Miss Seton protested.
Forcing a smile, he softened the insult. "Not that it isn't a credit to their good breeding and gentle natures, mind you. Under normal circumstances, I would think ill of any lady who assumed the worst about every man she met. But these are not normal circumstances. An heiress can't be too careful."