by Vivienne Lorret
Vivienne Lorret, the USA Today bestselling author of Winning Miss Wakefield, re
turns with a new series featuring the three roguish bachelors of Fallow Hall. Gabriel Ludlow, Viscount Everhart, was a fool to deny the depth of his feelings for Calliope Croft, but the threat that kept him from her five years ago remains. Now he must choose between two paths: break her heart all over again or finally succumb to loving her . . . at the risk of losing everything.
“Surely you’ve heard of the Chinese medicinal massage,” Gabriel said, attempting to reassure her. Yet the low hoarseness of his voice likely sounded hungry instead. Slowly, he slid his thumbs along the outer edges of the vertebrae at the base of her neck.
“I don’t believe I have,” she said, relaxing marginally, her voice thin and wispy like the fine downy hairs above her nape teasing the tops of his thumbs.
“Taoist priests have used this method for centuries.” His own voice came out low and insubstantial, as if he were breathing his final breath. As it was, his heart had all but given up trying to lure the blood away from his pulsing erection. This was a terrible idea.
He was immensely glad he’d thought of it.
His fingertips skirted the edge of her clavicle. Hands curled over her slender shoulders, he rolled his thumbs over her again.
Calliope emitted the faintest oh. It was barely a breath, but the sound deafened him with a rush of tumid desire. As if she sensed the change in him, she tensed again. “Are you trying to seduce me, Everhart?”
“If you have to ask,” he said, attempting to add levity with a chuckle, “then the answer is most likely no.” Yet even he knew differently. The most likely was said only as a way of not lying to himself. He wanted to seduce her, slowly and for hours on end.
For five years he’d wanted to feel her flesh beneath his hands. For a moment this evening, he’d even thought this one touch would be enough to sate him. He hated being wrong.
Those pearl buttons called to him. He feathered strokes outward along the upper edges of her shoulder blades, earning another breathy sound. Only this time, she did not tense beneath the heat of his hands.
“I’ve read—heard stories,” she corrected, “where the young woman is not certain of seduction until it is too late.”
Gabriel caught her quick slip and was not surprised. Her penchant for reading was another aspect of her character that drew him to her. Earlier today, in fact, he’d spotted her disappearing through the library doors.
Unable to control the impulse, he’d found a servant’s door off a narrow hall and surreptitiously watched her from behind a screen in the corner. Browsing the shelves, she’d searched through dozens of books. Yet her method fascinated him. She only viewed the last pages of each book. When she found one she liked, she clutched it to her breast and released a sigh filled with the type of longing he knew too well. He had little doubt that she sought the certainty of a happy ending. All in all, it had taken her over an hour to find three books that met her standards. Yet, instead of being bored, he’d been enthralled by every minute.
And now, here they were . . .
Under the spell of his massage, her head fell forward as she arched ever-so-slightly into his hands. Rampant desire coursed through him. Even so, he was in no hurry to end this delicious torment.
“I cannot imagine that a woman would not suspect an attempt at seduction in some manner.” He leaned forward to inhale the fragrance of her hair, the barest scents of rosewater and mint rising up to greet him. “Aren’t all young ladies brought up with the voice of reason clamoring about in their heads?”
His gaze followed the motions of his fingers, gliding over her silken warmth, pressing against the supple flesh that pinkened under his tender ministrations. He’d always wondered . . . and now he knew she felt as soft, if not softer, than any one of his dreams.
“Curiosity has a voice as well,” she said, her voice faint with pleasure. “And are we not all creatures put upon this earth to learn, just as you have learned this exquisite medicine?”
And sometimes curiosity could not be tamed.
It was no use. Did he truly imagine he could resist her? “Well said, Miss Croft.”
Unable to hold back a moment longer, Gabriel gave in to temptation, lowered his head, and pressed his lips to her nape.