just awakening to her sensuality? Himself included.
When she had spoken of her first kiss, her face had been alight with hunger, a yearning that had heated his blood as no other woman had done since Jenny. But he dared not rush her. There was too much at stake. He had to play her perfectly, stoke the embers of her passion until the time was ripe for her to burst free. Then, with his percentage of her marriage portion, he would at last be free himself.
Free!
The thought was a joyous one. So joyous, in fact, that it nearly overrode his lust for his little Lynette.
He glanced again at the small escritoire where she had worked. There was no imprint of her body upon the chair, no scratch on the desk made by her hand. There was not even a lingering scent that he could identify. Yet he sensed her there as surely as if she had remained to stare at him in that provocative way just before pestering him with questions.
Tomorrow, he decided abruptly. Tomorrow her education would begin in earnest.
Chapter 6
He lingered by the door, staring into her dark room, and listened intently to her slow, even breaths.
She was not asleep.
He wasn’t sure how he knew. He had a sixth sense about his girls that he never questioned. Still, he was shocked to find that it had developed so quickly with this girl. After all, Lynette had been here barely more than a day.
“You still wear your nightrail.” He spoke softly, his words floating across the darkness. But she heard him. Even in the gloom, he could see the white outline of her gown twitch.
He stepped into the room, scanning her garment, which he’d forbidden. It was a prim thing, with buttons, no doubt, up to her chin. Perfectly appropriate for a clergyman’s daughter. Sacrilege in his household.
“I will allow it tonight,” he said, his voice still soft.“But tomorrow you will burn it or I will tear it off your body myself.”
She didn’t answer. Indeed, he had not expected her to. She was still pretending she slept. He waited, allowing her the illusion of safety, letting her believe she fooled him.
He took another step closer. In truth, he had not intended to. He had merely meant to see her, listen to her, feel her. He often stood in the doorway between his room and his client’s, especially at the beginning. It allowed both the girl and himself to grow accustomed to one another. Perhaps this was how he aligned himself with each girl’s particular rhythms.
But not with Lynette. With her, there was no need to attune himself. He already felt like one end of a tight wire, inextricably connected to the other one. To her.
“Do you feel it?” he whispered into the darkness. “Do you feel me here?”
She didn’t answer, though he knew his words were echoing in her mind. Again, he meant to leave. He had already given her enough to think on tonight. Timing was everything in this business.
But he did not. In sudden decision, he sat down beside her. The bed shifted beneath his weight, and Lynette should have rolled into him. She did not. Instead, she feigned a gasp of surprise and rolled backward, avoiding his touch.
“My lord! You startled me.”
He smiled into the darkness. Virgins were so predictable. He kept his voice harsh and cold. He had to establish the rules firmly at the beginning.
“Do not lie to me!” He reached out and pulled her roughly toward him. He was careful not to hurt her, but he had to impress his will upon her. Leaningdown, he whispered harshly into her ear. “Never lie. Not to me. Never to me.”
He felt her fear in the fine tremors that shook her arm, but he also felt her control. She was appropriately terrified, and yet she kept it deeply buried, as though she dared not allow anyone to know what she thought. What she felt.
Had she learned this from her father? he wondered. Not the restraint. By all accounts, her father—and the uncle, as well—were singularly obvious in their emotional expression, as though they had the right to not only
When she had spoken of her first kiss, her face had been alight with hunger, a yearning that had heated his blood as no other woman had done since Jenny. But he dared not rush her. There was too much at stake. He had to play her perfectly, stoke the embers of her passion until the time was ripe for her to burst free. Then, with his percentage of her marriage portion, he would at last be free himself.
Free!
The thought was a joyous one. So joyous, in fact, that it nearly overrode his lust for his little Lynette.
He glanced again at the small escritoire where she had worked. There was no imprint of her body upon the chair, no scratch on the desk made by her hand. There was not even a lingering scent that he could identify. Yet he sensed her there as surely as if she had remained to stare at him in that provocative way just before pestering him with questions.
Tomorrow, he decided abruptly. Tomorrow her education would begin in earnest.
Chapter 6
He lingered by the door, staring into her dark room, and listened intently to her slow, even breaths.
She was not asleep.
He wasn’t sure how he knew. He had a sixth sense about his girls that he never questioned. Still, he was shocked to find that it had developed so quickly with this girl. After all, Lynette had been here barely more than a day.
“You still wear your nightrail.” He spoke softly, his words floating across the darkness. But she heard him. Even in the gloom, he could see the white outline of her gown twitch.
He stepped into the room, scanning her garment, which he’d forbidden. It was a prim thing, with buttons, no doubt, up to her chin. Perfectly appropriate for a clergyman’s daughter. Sacrilege in his household.
“I will allow it tonight,” he said, his voice still soft.“But tomorrow you will burn it or I will tear it off your body myself.”
She didn’t answer. Indeed, he had not expected her to. She was still pretending she slept. He waited, allowing her the illusion of safety, letting her believe she fooled him.
He took another step closer. In truth, he had not intended to. He had merely meant to see her, listen to her, feel her. He often stood in the doorway between his room and his client’s, especially at the beginning. It allowed both the girl and himself to grow accustomed to one another. Perhaps this was how he aligned himself with each girl’s particular rhythms.
But not with Lynette. With her, there was no need to attune himself. He already felt like one end of a tight wire, inextricably connected to the other one. To her.
“Do you feel it?” he whispered into the darkness. “Do you feel me here?”
She didn’t answer, though he knew his words were echoing in her mind. Again, he meant to leave. He had already given her enough to think on tonight. Timing was everything in this business.
But he did not. In sudden decision, he sat down beside her. The bed shifted beneath his weight, and Lynette should have rolled into him. She did not. Instead, she feigned a gasp of surprise and rolled backward, avoiding his touch.
“My lord! You startled me.”
He smiled into the darkness. Virgins were so predictable. He kept his voice harsh and cold. He had to establish the rules firmly at the beginning.
“Do not lie to me!” He reached out and pulled her roughly toward him. He was careful not to hurt her, but he had to impress his will upon her. Leaningdown, he whispered harshly into her ear. “Never lie. Not to me. Never to me.”
He felt her fear in the fine tremors that shook her arm, but he also felt her control. She was appropriately terrified, and yet she kept it deeply buried, as though she dared not allow anyone to know what she thought. What she felt.
Had she learned this from her father? he wondered. Not the restraint. By all accounts, her father—and the uncle, as well—were singularly obvious in their emotional expression, as though they had the right to not only
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