Chapter 9
Evelina could have said no. This was outside the barriers of their false arrangement. No one was watching—if they kissed now it would be real.
But she didn’t want to say no. She wanted, as she looked at this handsome man, to be kissed by him in a way that wasn’t for anyone but her.
She crooked her finger and he made a rumble deep in his chest that felt like it ricocheted through every nerve in her body. Slowly, he leaned across the space between them, pressing one hand into the cushion beside her thigh and the other against the wall near her shoulder.
She was caged in as she looked up at him, his body heat swirling around her and the clean, woodsy scent of him filling her senses. Slowly he leaned in, his mouth hovering above hers for a moment before he met her lips and kissed her.
Oh yes, this was different, even from the first moment there was no denying it.
There was no distraction, no negative emotion clouding the moment.
All there was was the pressure of his lips on hers, the feel of him as she lifted a hand to his shoulder and gripped him like she could keep herself from being washed away on delicious sensation.
But she could have tied herself to a tree and it wouldn’t have stopped that from happening. This kiss was a wave and she was being pulled out to sea.
The pressure of his mouth increased and then he gently probed her lips with the tip of his tongue.
She opened without hesitation and he delved inside.
With that, the tenor of the kiss changed again.
He made that delicious rumble in his chest again and now the hand he gripped against the wall behind her moved to sweep around her back and tug her against his chest.
The passion spiraled, lifting ever higher as tongues crashed and hands gripped. It was all unrestrained passion and reckless abandon and her body felt like it was being lit aflame with every passing moment.
The carriage began to slow as it took the turn onto Evelina’s drive. Only then did Vaughn back away, returning to his carriage seat where they stared at each other for a moment as charged as the unexpected kiss had been.
If she asked him to come inside, she had no doubt he would say yes. That he would go upstairs to her bedroom and make love to her until they were both dizzy from pleasure. But she couldn’t seem to make the words form, not when her mind was reeling so entirely.
As if he read those thoughts, he cleared his throat. “Do you think we should renegotiate our terms?”
She caught her breath. “You’re talking about becoming lovers.”
He hesitated and then slowly nodded. “Yes.” The footman came to the door and opened it, standing by at the ready to help her from the vehicle, but for a moment they only continued to look at each other. Then he smiled. “Think about it. We can discuss it when we next see each other.”
She gave one bob of her head before took the footman’s hand to exit the vehicle. “Good night, Vaughn.”
“Good night, Evie,” he said, and then the carriage door shut and he was off into the night, leaving her with questions and a desire she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
* * *
Vaughn’s hands were still shaking when he reached his home a quarter of an hour later. He greeted his servants absently as he made his way through the house and straight up to his chamber. He paced the room, thinking about Evie and the taste of her lips when she’d sighed shakily against him.
He wanted her. That was patently clear by his body’s reaction.
Even now his cock still throbbed whenever he thought of the way her fingers had clenched against his shoulder, the way she’d tasted of mint and sherry and honey sweetness, about the way she’d looked at him, gaze glassy and soft with desire when they’d parted.
He hadn’t expected such a thing. After all, their arrangement had only been pretend, but here they were. He moved across the room, unwinding his cravat as he did so. He should call his valet to help, but he wanted to do something else first.
He collapsed on the settee before the fire and unfastened his fall front. Since Florence had left, he had been in too much of a spiral into hell to ponder pleasure. In this moment, he craved it like air. He shut his eyes, remembered Evie’s gasp once again and began to stroke his half-hard cock.
Everything in his life had been muted for months, filtered through the awful pain of the end of his marriage.
Now his pleasure was sharp and crisp, rushing up his cock as he stroked and pictured Evie, her mouth, her tongue tangling around his own, her body lifting toward him with as much need as he felt.
He could picture what could have happened next if the carriage hadn’t turned into her drive or if he asked her if he could come in.
He could easily imagine them smashing together, mouths seeking, hands tugging clothing.
He wanted to feel her soft skin pressed to his, watch her ride above him with that silky dark hair swinging around her shoulders and her head thrown back in pleasure as she came with great waves gripping his cock.
He grunted as his own pleasure streaked hot as fire and he came with sudden, jolting gasps. He went limp on the settee as his cock slipped from his hand and then he stared up at the ceiling.
There was something calming about allowing himself to come undone like that. Of fully surrendering emotions he’d been tightly controlling for months. They were softened now, despite the fact that he’d seen his wife out in public with the man he’d once called friend.
Strange that he hadn’t been obsessing over that fact, but rather Evelina’s lips.
Now, though, as he tucked himself back together, he did think of Florence and Southwater.
He’d recognized the shape of his wife’s irritation when she’d looked across the opera house and seen him with Evie in his box.
But he’d also seen other things. He’d glanced over toward them many times to find them with their heads close together, talking.
It made the facts of this awful situation all the clearer. Florence had made her choice and didn’t care about the consequences to herself or to him. The only thing that mattered to her was being with Southwater. She would burn them both on a pyre to do that.
Had they ever shared such a connection? Had his wife ever been willing to do anything to be with him?
Not at first, of course, when the marriage had been arranged, but after they’d been together for a while.
When things had been happier, had she ever looked at him across a room or a table and felt the thrill of affection and desire and a willingness to sacrifice everything to be closer?
He had tried, at least. He’d thrown himself into the marriage with a hope it could become warm, even loving.
That they would produce children and a future and a life that gave him satisfaction when he reflected upon it at the end of his days.
But it had always felt like she was pulling away, even before she turned to others to find her pleasure and her thrills.
He squeezed his eyes shut. All pleasant feelings from coming had fled now. He got up, went to the basin to wash his hands, and then rang for his valet. He’d have a drink and go to bed and hopefully everything would be clearer in the morning.
Because right now the cloudy combination of regret and desire was confusing, indeed.
* * *
“I heard you went to the opera two nights ago.”
Evelina jolted from her distracted thoughts and looked toward her sister. She’d been having tea with Arabella this afternoon and trying to keep her thoughts focused and failing.
“I did,” she said, wishing her voice sounded a bit steadier. “Lord Blackburn took me.” She hesitated and then said, “Vaughn took me.”
It was an odd thing that she didn’t feel strange calling the man that to his face, but the intimacy of using his given name with her sister felt far more vulnerable. Arabella’s raised eyebrows didn’t lessen that sensation.
“Vaughn,” she repeated. “So you and Vaughn came to an agreement after all.”
Evelina worried her hands in her lap. “We did. You seemed supportive of the idea before—have you changed your mind?”
“I don’t think I seemed to have one opinion or the other about it.” Arabella tilted her head.
“So you don’t approve then?”
Her sister was quiet a moment, which was a rare enough occurrence that Evelina’s chest tightened a fraction as she awaited the response. At last Arabella sighed.
“I…think…” she began slowly, “…that the mere concept of pretending a relationship for the sake of revenge and show isn’t the worst idea. Certainly many courtesans are on the arm of a man to prove some point—it’s part of the life. This is little different. In theory.”
“I know you too well not to understand that you have a different take on the actual practice of such a thing.”
“Not necessarily. There are ways this could happen where no one would have to get hurt, where everyone could benefit. But you’re my sister, Evie.
I’ve watched you go through hell this last month or so and it’s broken my heart, been the only blemish on my otherwise very happy new life.
I am experienced enough in such matters to know you could still be hurt.
And that indulging in ruminations over the past might not be the healthiest way of overcoming a broken heart. ”
Evelina stared at her hands again. “You could be right, of course. There are certainly ways where I might come out of this situation even more damaged than when I came in. But you must understand that we do have rules. And Vaughn is very kind. He isn’t just using me to hurt his wife and friend.
He knows I have feelings in this, as well, and he isn’t trying to run me over. ”
“That’s good.” Arabella sipped her tea. “And what are the terms?”