Chapter 29
twenty-nine
Effie wasn’t drunk. Although she’d never been drunk, so she wasn’t sure what being drunk felt like. But aside from a headache and a sense of fullness, she was fine.
She wiggled her toes on the pleasantly cold grass in Tristan’s garden lit by the stars. What an odd night. She’d expected Tristan to bed her quickly, grunt, and leave, as the horses did. Instead, he’d been nothing but kind to her, and she’d enjoyed one of the best dinners of her life.
He seemed sad. Whatever his dark secret was, it tore at his soul, and she was sorry for him, even though he’d tried to destroy her family.
“For you.”
He returned with a steaming cup on a tray. And maybe she was a silly, sentimental woman, or maybe the wine was affecting her, but the gesture cracked something within her.
She wished people saw how kind he was.
She took a sip of the tea. The scent of lemon and bay leaves filled her senses. There was a hint of honey and vanilla as well. Everything Tristan had given her to drink or eat tasted delicious and sophisticated.
“This is really good,” she said.
“I like good food.”
“Why are you so kind? I offered you myself, and we agreed on a deal, but you aren’t taking advantage of it.” She put the mugs on the armrest to cool.
He sat next to her. “I told you why.”
“Or maybe you don’t fancy me as much as you told me.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
The wine had untied her tongue, and she wanted to tease him. “It’s a reasonable doubt. You can be honest. I won’t be offended.”
“Let me be completely clear.” His expression was hurt. “I have never wanted any woman as much as I want you. That hasn’t changed, and it’s not going to change even after this deal is over.” His voice had a husky quality that stirred something in her chest and lower.
For a split second, a vision of him lying on top of her and whispering those words in that voice filled her mind. And heat flickered again.
She was curious to see what type of lover he was.
One didn’t grow up on a farm without learning a thing or two about mating habits.
She’d seen it all. Well, almost. And her sisters had often talked about their experiences at night when they’d been supposed to be sleeping.
Some lovers weren’t generous and didn’t care about their partner’s pleasure. Others were caring and gentle.
She found it difficult to place Tristan in one of those categories. He was both dominating and caring at the same time. But her sister Mary had told her that men could be completely different in bed from how they behaved in their everyday lives, and she had never understood what that meant.
“I shocked you,” he said not without kindness.
“Surprised. No one has ever told me anything like that.”
A sad smile tugged at his lips. “I’m glad to be sensible and sensitive enough to understand how special you are.”
“I feel dizzy all over again.” And hot.
“When you’re ready…” He gently took her hand and opened her palm by caressing her fingers.
“When you want it too…” He planted a soft kiss in the centre of her palm, lingering enough to make her feel his velvety lips.
“I’ll show you exactly how much I want you.
Until then…” He closed her fingers over the kiss he’d left on her palm.
Her whole body trembled; it was an explosion of warmth and excitement.
A tingle waltzed on her skin. The spot he’d kissed pulsated as if the kiss were alive. She’d never felt so beautiful and desirable.
He caressed her closed hand before releasing it.
“I might be ready now,” she whispered.
He traced the curve of her cheek with a fingertip, sending another quivering shot through her. “Not tonight. When you are completely yourself.”
She did feel peculiar, and he stared at her with too much desire for her not to burn with excitement.
“We have time.” He stopped touching her, and she nearly begged him not to.
The tingle intensified and became an insistent pulse that turned into a nagging feeling. She wanted him to kiss and touch her. Her whole focus was on the sensations he might give her.
That wasn’t how she’d expected the night to go. She’d thought he would have bedded her, and then she would have looked forward to leaving him and forgetting about the whole thing.
Her wishing to be touched and kissed by him hadn’t been an option.
She sipped the tea not to say something she might regret, and the tea was indeed excellent. Her head cleared, too.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m afraid tomorrow I’ll have a terrible headache.” A breeze cooled her skin, making her shiver.
“No, you won’t. Drink plenty of tea, and you’ll be fine.” He stood up and gave her his hand. “You should go home.”
She didn’t want to go home. How confusing. She took his hand, and together they walked back to the balcony.
“Don’t your feet hurt?” He held the door for her.
“No. I have strong feet.” She wiped her feet on the rug before putting her slippers on.
He was gallant enough to help her don her capelet. “Are you warm enough?”
“It’s a bit chilly. But I don’t mind. It helps with my head.”
“I’ll hail a cab for you.” He escorted her downstairs and to the street.
No servant was around, as he’d promised. He helped her into the cab, his sapphire eyes capturing hers. They no longer were cold or distant but ablaze with care and longing, and she felt their warmth.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked, sitting in the cab.
He sucked in a breath and parted his lips, but then he shook his head. “Good night.”
“You can tell me anything.” She meant it.
His sad smile returned, and for some reason, it pained her. “Get warm and sleep well.”
She kept staring at him as the cab drove on. He stood on the pavement, engulfed by the shadows, but she could swear his eyes were glowing.