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Authors: Julia Templeton
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groped him beneath the table as she was known to do. The very thought made her blood boil.
Nicolette could not remember a time she had seen Salvatore with a woman. True, they did not spend a lot of time apart, but there were nights he would tell her he had errands to run and would not return until morning. Once she had been able to smell perfume on his shirt. He had told her it was from Madame la Monte, the madam of the brothel where their mothers worked and they had lived.
Having experienced just a taste of what making love would be like, Nicolette stared at her partner. She had always thought him more handsome than any man she’d known. So different from the conceited earl who sat three people down to her right, staring at her, no doubt hoping to catch her attention.
Darian’s kiss had made her ill to her stomach—the complete opposite effect that Salvatore’s kiss had had on her.
Memories of the precious moments in the cabin made her blood warm. The feel of Salvatore’s mouth on her breasts, his tongue laving her nipples, the feel of his long fingers inside her, stroking her as though he knew her body better than she did. Her gaze shifted to his long-fingered hand, which rested on his glass. Hands that could play the violin, the piano and any instrument he chose. Hands that could play a woman, making her body sing.
She felt like a moth being lured to a flame. Here she was supposed to be seducing Darian for Salvatore, and instead she was hoping to seduce Salvatore. She could not help it. She had loved him for too long, and he had always looked at her and treated her like a child.
But she would no longer lie to herself. She wanted more. Salvatore would be her tutor, and she would not stop with the lessons. The only problem she could foresee was keeping Darian at bay.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Lord, but she was confused. Above all else she had to remember this was only a game. She must keep Darian at arm’s length. Hopefully she could divert suspicion from the countess and Elizabeth. Apparently the duke himself would be showing up tomorrow morning, which meant it would be even harder for Darian to find time alone with her.
Thank goodness.
Salvatore jumped, and nearly knocked his glass over. Charlotte cast him a sheepish smile and he managed a tight grin.
No doubt her hand was latched onto Salvatore’s thigh—or somewhere even more intimate. Nicolette’s stomach rolled. Why didn’t the woman prey on someone else? Someone like Darian? Kicking off her slipper, Nicolette extended her foot and rubbed it against Salvatore’s. Salvatore’s brows furrowed into a frown. He picked up his glass and took a long swallow. Nicolette trailed her toes up along his ankle.
Salvatore glanced at Charlotte, who had turned away to speak to Viscount Aubrey. He then glanced to his right, at Mrs. Stromme, and then quickly looked away. He took another drink and then his gaze lifted to hers.
Nicolette smiled and lifted a brow.
Surprise flitted over his features, and then with a smirk, he jerked his foot away.
Taking a drink from her wineglass, she watched him as he in turn watched her. She continued to drink, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. She welcomed the fire. Perhaps it would quench the flame of desire within her.
His eyes narrowed as she drained the entire glass. It seemed the father in him had returned.
“You are thirsty this evening?” the viscount beside her asked.
Pulling her gaze from Salvatore, Nicolette nodded. “Indeed, it has been a long day.”
The viscount motioned for the footman to replenish her drink. She smiled prettily and caught Darian’s gaze. His dark eyes were imploring. They had not spoken since they returned to the manor, when all three of them had parted company and retired straight to their rooms.
Darian motioned to the veranda, apparently wanting to meet her outside after dinner. The footman poured her a drink. Breaking eye contact with Darian, she thanked the
Nicolette could not remember a time she had seen Salvatore with a woman. True, they did not spend a lot of time apart, but there were nights he would tell her he had errands to run and would not return until morning. Once she had been able to smell perfume on his shirt. He had told her it was from Madame la Monte, the madam of the brothel where their mothers worked and they had lived.
Having experienced just a taste of what making love would be like, Nicolette stared at her partner. She had always thought him more handsome than any man she’d known. So different from the conceited earl who sat three people down to her right, staring at her, no doubt hoping to catch her attention.
Darian’s kiss had made her ill to her stomach—the complete opposite effect that Salvatore’s kiss had had on her.
Memories of the precious moments in the cabin made her blood warm. The feel of Salvatore’s mouth on her breasts, his tongue laving her nipples, the feel of his long fingers inside her, stroking her as though he knew her body better than she did. Her gaze shifted to his long-fingered hand, which rested on his glass. Hands that could play the violin, the piano and any instrument he chose. Hands that could play a woman, making her body sing.
She felt like a moth being lured to a flame. Here she was supposed to be seducing Darian for Salvatore, and instead she was hoping to seduce Salvatore. She could not help it. She had loved him for too long, and he had always looked at her and treated her like a child.
But she would no longer lie to herself. She wanted more. Salvatore would be her tutor, and she would not stop with the lessons. The only problem she could foresee was keeping Darian at bay.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Lord, but she was confused. Above all else she had to remember this was only a game. She must keep Darian at arm’s length. Hopefully she could divert suspicion from the countess and Elizabeth. Apparently the duke himself would be showing up tomorrow morning, which meant it would be even harder for Darian to find time alone with her.
Thank goodness.
Salvatore jumped, and nearly knocked his glass over. Charlotte cast him a sheepish smile and he managed a tight grin.
No doubt her hand was latched onto Salvatore’s thigh—or somewhere even more intimate. Nicolette’s stomach rolled. Why didn’t the woman prey on someone else? Someone like Darian? Kicking off her slipper, Nicolette extended her foot and rubbed it against Salvatore’s. Salvatore’s brows furrowed into a frown. He picked up his glass and took a long swallow. Nicolette trailed her toes up along his ankle.
Salvatore glanced at Charlotte, who had turned away to speak to Viscount Aubrey. He then glanced to his right, at Mrs. Stromme, and then quickly looked away. He took another drink and then his gaze lifted to hers.
Nicolette smiled and lifted a brow.
Surprise flitted over his features, and then with a smirk, he jerked his foot away.
Taking a drink from her wineglass, she watched him as he in turn watched her. She continued to drink, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. She welcomed the fire. Perhaps it would quench the flame of desire within her.
His eyes narrowed as she drained the entire glass. It seemed the father in him had returned.
“You are thirsty this evening?” the viscount beside her asked.
Pulling her gaze from Salvatore, Nicolette nodded. “Indeed, it has been a long day.”
The viscount motioned for the footman to replenish her drink. She smiled prettily and caught Darian’s gaze. His dark eyes were imploring. They had not spoken since they returned to the manor, when all three of them had parted company and retired straight to their rooms.
Darian motioned to the veranda, apparently wanting to meet her outside after dinner. The footman poured her a drink. Breaking eye contact with Darian, she thanked the
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