Could she have fallen in love with him? No. It was a concept more frightening than marriage. Because she’d already ensured that he would never share those tender feelings.
They weren’t meant to be.
25
Felicia held her breath as she added the last ingredient to the beaker and spread the coals to encourage cooling. Was this it? From theory work, she and Gideon had entered an uneasy truce in order to put it into practice. He’d even pressed new oils for her from the plant they had. Not as potent as the seeds, but she diluted it less with water in order to gain the same potency.
However sound their theory, the last three attempts had ended poorly, with the oils separating from the rest of the ingredients and floating on top. The result hadn’t even been worthy of testing, not if they couldn’t properly blend the ingredients. That had led them to experiment with methods of combining the contents, as well as tweaking the ratio of plant oil to other ingredients. Would this attempt separate like the last ones, and leave them needing to start over—again?
She and Gideon had, for the time being, entered into a shaky sort of truce that involved speaking of nothing personal. There had been no further attempts to sabotage their work. Was the traitor biding his time? Watching and waiting for the perfect moment? For the time being they’d decided the best course of action was to keep a watchful eye and do whatever they could to complete the serum as quickly as possible
They focused only on work, Gideon tending to the plant more than anything else. For a time, Felicia had allowed herself to fall into her work, but now, with the potion nearing completion, her thoughts returned to the man keeping her company.
With his height and his broad shoulders, Gideon dominated the space inside the wagon. Even without turning to him, Felicia could feel the heat of his body bracketing her. It was inescapable.
The back of his hand brushed over her hip, sending a rush of awareness. Desire mixed with shame and regret as she recalled the reason why he wouldn’t be kissing her again.
“Breathe,” he said, his voice low.
She did, releasing her breath and drawing in another. She didn’t dare turn to look at him. Instead, she swirled the contents of the beaker and waited for it to cool and settle again.
The liquid swirled, gradually slowing.
“Why Catt?” Gideon’s voice was soft. She scarcely heard his words above the sound of her own breath.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, she looked down. She didn’t have an answer for him, not a satisfactory one.
He raised his voice. “Why did you choose Catt over—” His voice broke. He didn’t complete the sentence, but his meaning was clear enough.
“I didn’t.” She hadn’t chosen Catt over him. She’d… she didn’t know what she’d done. She’d driven him away—gotten exactly what she wanted, only to realize that she didn’t want it anymore.
What she wanted was to be the kind of woman who could pursue Gideon. Ever since her conversation with Lucy, the idea had turned around and around her head. Fermenting when she was thinking about it directly. She always returned to it.
If her age and social status was no barrier, what was stopping her? Their past, and the wedge she’d driven between them. She was the only thing standing in the way of her own happiness. But she didn’t know how to change that.
His hand brushed across her dress again, this time the small of her back. “Felicia—”
The grit had settled, leaving the beaker a solid color. Felicia used a thick cloth to grab the mouth of the beaker without scalding herself on the hot glass. She pulled it away from the brazier.
“I think we did it.”
The words rippled through the silence. When she breathed them in, the implication filled her with warmth. The oil wasn’t separated from the rest of the serum.
“We did it!”
She turned to Giddy, her face breaking into a grin. He looked stunned, a little overwhelmed maybe, but she only glimpsed his expression for a moment. She returned her attention to the serum.
“We have to test it.” After all, before they tried it, they wouldn’t know whether or not it worked. Just because the science was sound—the theory that they had combined their considerable intellect to puzzle out—didn’t mean that the result would be as they predicted.
When she lifted the beaker to pour it into an empty bottle, Gideon slid his hand over hers, stalling her. The warmth of his hand seeped into her skin.
“Don’t drink it.”
He’d long ago made it clear his thoughts about sampling their own work. However, it was late; regardless of whether or not they succumbed to the effects of the serum, they wouldn’t brew another tonight. Chubs snored in his corner of the wagon, oblivious to them and the world.
Felicia twisted to lift her gaze to Gideon’s. Like always, the lamp clipped to the side of the counter cast a bright yellow glow. It shadowed his eyes. After a beat, he removed his hand from hers and dropped it to his side. He still stood near enough for her body to prickle with awareness of his proximity.
“We won’t know if it works unless we test it.” He knew that, of course, but perhaps if she repeated herself, he would change his opinion of the test. “This will work, I can feel it. The science is solid, and the ingredients didn’t separate this time.”
Hesitation crossed his face. “Are you certain?”
“I can’t be, not without testing it. If not me, then we need to find someone willing.”
One side of his mouth pulled up in a devilish smile. “Why not my sister? It would prove entertaining.”
The warmth in his voice infused the air. A constriction around her chest loosened a little more. It was the first joke he’d made since he’d found her in Catt’s arms. Had he forgiven her? Why would he? She craved the camaraderie they’d shared too much to question it.
Instead, she turned to face him fully. His shoulders were hunched in order for him to fit in the wagon without banging his head on the ceiling. The posture lowered his mouth closer to hers. His breath batted stray strands of her hair.
Matching his smile, she raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to know your sister’s secrets?”
He laughed. “Touché.”
His smile was infectious. If she raised herself on tiptoe, she could capture his mouth and relive their kiss in the orangery. But did she deserve it? What if he pushed her away? Even though she expected it, she didn’t know whether her battered hopes could handle his rejection.
She turned her back. “I’ll bottle the serum before it spoils.”
“Good idea. We’ll go to Keeling in the morning with it.”
Her hands shook a bit, but she managed to pour the liquid out of the beaker without spilling a drop. She shoved the cork into place with the heel of her palm.
“Do we trust Mr. Keeling? What if he is the traitor?”
Gideon sighed. The rustle of clothing behind her signaled that he was likely fiddling with his hair or cravat. “I’d like to think that if he wanted to kill us, he would do it in a more efficient manner. Besides, if you’re right, we completed our mission. We have to tell someone.”
As Felicia heated wax to seal the bottle of serum so no contaminants entered the vial, she answered, “Very well. We’ll take a risk and tell Keeling.”
“He’ll scrounge up someone willing to test it, and then we’ll know for certain whether or not we’ve done it.”
Felicia danced from foot to foot as she waited for the wax to be malleable enough to mold around the cork. “Even if we haven’t, this is the closest we’ve come. We should document our progress.”
“I’ll do that.”
They completed their respective tasks within minutes. Once Felicia set the serum in a safe place, she retrieved a bottle of whiskey she had on hand for cold winter nights. “Let’s celebrate.” She found two tumblers and splashed a liberal amount of the amber liquid into two glasses. Giddy sat on the bed while she dragged over a crate for her to sit on.
Once they were nestled close together, their knees brushing, they clinked glasses. “To our completed mission.”
Giddy raised his glass with a grin. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
Felicia narrowed her eyes, wondering if she should be offended. However, his posture was so casual as he sipped from his tumbler that she didn’t rile over the statement. She had once thought him an insufferable, arrogant lord. Her opinion had changed as well. At least she had proven her worth—and research—to him. She took a gulp from her glass.
The whiskey burned her throat in the best of ways. It warmed her from the inside out and quelled the irritating scratch she battled in her throat, the last lingering effects from the fire. She cradled the tumbler between her palms as she stared into the liquid.
“I didn’t expect to find the answer so fast.” What would she do now? Would she collect her payment from the duke and leave?
She didn’t want to. Evelyn had offered her a room in Tenwick Abbey for the winter. She could weather out the worst of the snows and then continue with her life.
She didn’t want to do that, either.
“You don’t know for certain that we’ve found the answer.” Giddy’s voice had a peculiar, sharp quality to it. When she glanced up, she couldn’t quite read his expression.
She took another swallow from her glass. It didn’t burn as much going down, this time.
“Your mother asked me to stay the winter.”
“You should. Stay.” He answered so quickly, he tripped over his tongue. He loosened his cravat, his cheeks turning pink, as he added, “The wagon is no barrier against the elements.”
It wasn’t, hence why she usually rented a room for the coldest months.
Although it might be due to the alcohol, something about the ruddy quality to his cheeks reminded her of when they’d first met. He blushed so easily. A wicked intention unfurled in her chest as she wondered whether or not she could still make him fly his colors. She set her glass on the counter, within arm’s reach. Leaning forward, she let her fingers trail up his thigh for the briefest moment as she murmured, “So adamant. Be careful, or I might start to believe that you’ll miss me.”
His smile shrank as his gaze heated. “Maybe I would rather not find out.” He spoke so softly that she didn’t hear the words at all, only guessed from the motion of his mouth.
Something hot and potent sank its claws into her. She looked away, not trusting that she’d interpreted his words correctly. Not daring to hope that he might still want her. Needing a change of topic, she stood and reached for his glass. “Another?”
The moment she set the tumbler next to hers on the counter behind her, he caught her free hand. He tugged on it, spinning her toward him. Her head continued to spin, caught up in the effects of the liquor, and she lost her balance. She tumbled onto his lap.
His body surrounded her. Her shoulder was nestled against his chest, her bottom flush on his lap. One of his big hands splayed over her hip—the other traced circles over her back. His hot touch branded her, making her his. Their breaths melded. As he tilted his face down to meet her gaze, his hair flopped onto his forehead. She brushed away the ebony strands.
Their eyes locked. Her body hummed with awareness. He was close enough to kiss, and Lud, did she ever want to. He swallowed audibly as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
Do it. Kiss him.
He licked his lips. “Choose me, Felicia.”
His words were spoken in the barest hush. The intimate tone raised goose bumps over her skin. He leaned a fraction closer, the skin of his lips almost brushing hers.
“I love you.”
She’d never expected to hear the words laced with such a heartbroken tone. Love was supposed to be light and happy, wasn’t it?
He doesn’t mean it. It was the whiskey talking. It had to be. She wasn’t the sort of woman to make a man like Giddy fall in love.
But, for tonight, she wanted to forget everything that stood between them. She wanted to believe he spoke the truth.
If only for tonight.
She crossed the last inch between them and melded her mouth to his.
26
Marry me. Two words that were difficult to utter while being kissed.
Truthfully, Gideon hadn’t meant to say the first three, I love you. But the moment they had left his lips, something inside him had aligned and he’d known it was the right thing to say. He had fallen in love with her. He wanted her, not just now—forever. The moment he’d learned that she hadn’t chosen Catt over him, the shields he’d tried to erect to deflect his emotions had shattered. They’d shared two kisses and never spoken of anything further. She hadn’t known how he felt. Maybe, now that she did, she would choose him.
She chose to kiss him with abandon. Her mouth moved over his as she shifted on his lap to twine her arms around his neck. He returned the kiss every bit as fervently, trying to prove without words how much he wanted and needed her. He held her tight, not wanting to face the inevitability of having to let her go.
He deepened the kiss, surrendering himself to the way he felt with her. Passionate, yes, but there was an underlying sensation of satisfaction. She was made for him to hold and kiss. Nothing could be more right.
When she shifted on his lap, drawing her skirts up to her hips in order to straddle him and face him fully, he wrapped his arms around her. Her hands trailed over his shoulders, the sensation muted by his shirt and waistcoat as she drew her palms onto his chest. She plucked at the knot of his cravat, quickly unraveling it. He breathed easier without the constriction. Her fingers brushed his front as she sought out the buttons of his waistcoat.
He gulped for air. “Felicia.” He didn’t know whether her name was a protest or encouragement. He was afraid to do or say anything else. He didn’t want to lose her.
Her hair fell into her eyes as she deftly undid his buttons. He tucked the strands behind her ear. She was beautiful. He’d been stunned by that fact from the moment they’d met, but somehow, now that he knew her better, her beauty had only magnified.
He rolled his shoulders back, helping her remove his waistcoat. He wore only his shirt sleeves now, and as she peppered his mouth with quick, soft kisses that he eagerly returned, she attended the fastenings on his collar. Once she undid them all, she slipped her hand inside to encourage the opening to widen. The backs of her fingers brushed his bare skin. His breath hitched. How could such an innocent touch feel so amazing?
When she tugged on his shirt to pull it from his breeches, he lifted his arms to let her strip it from him. The touch of her hands as she returned to explore the contours of his chest was mesmerizing. He burned where they touched, in the best way possible. He wanted more.
Marry me. The words stung his throat, but he swallowed them. She hadn’t said that she returned his feelings. He needed to prove to her that he was the man for her, prove that they were meant to be together. Leaning down, he captured her mouth as his hands slipped around to the buttons on the back of her dress. He forced himself not to think, not to question what was happening between them. He belonged with her. That was the only thing that mattered.
That, and discovering how smooth her skin would be.
She wore a maddening number of clothes. The buttons of her dress, the laces of her stays beneath. When he finished with those only to discover the cloth of her chemise still separated them, he almost lost his courage. The warm confidence that had infused him from the whiskey ebbed somewhat as clarity returned.
Felicia had fewer reservations. The moment his hand dropped away from her clothes and he broke the kiss, she pulled her dress over her shoulders and down to her waist. She wiggled on his lap as she tugged her chemise over her head. The moment she bared her skin to the air, she stole his breath.
He traced the contours of her breast with reverent fingers. “You’re beautiful.” The lamplight gave her skin a golden cast. Her back was to it, so the light stretched rays around her sides, the shadows cloying to her curves
.
When he circled her areola, she gasped and arched into his hand. He lowered his mouth to trace the same path with his tongue. She threaded her fingers in his hair, her grip tight. Pinpricks of pain flared to life along his skull. He ignored them as he laved her.
“You have done this before, haven’t you?” Her voice was breathless.
He smiled against her breast. “Yes.” Once. It had been enough to convince him that when not done with a partner he loved, it wasn’t worth doing. With her, it felt better. Her touch was more potent. Her gasps and soft moans rippled through him, building his desire. He wanted to know her body better than he knew his own.
He switched his attention to the other breast.
“Good. I just wanted to make s—oh.”
He loved that he could render her speechless.
However, speechless did not mean motionless. She writhed against him. Soon, her hand found its way between them to the fall of his breeches. She palmed the ridge of his erection, making him burn. As she found a particularly sensitive spot, his mind blanked and he gasped for breath.
When the spots cleared from his vision, she’d freed him from his breeches. The slide of her skin against his was magic. He leaned his head back on a moan. Her clever tongue traced circles over his neck as she leaned forward. God, he loved her.
Then, without even peeling away the rest of their clothes, she lowered herself against him. The slide of her body felt like coming home. At that moment, nothing mattered but the two of them. Nothing had ever been more right.
Although her cramped wagon didn’t allow for much room for him to maneuver, she wrapped her arms around his neck and took command of their passion. He touched her everywhere, craving the feel of her skin. When she shuddered against him, he kissed her deep, her passion fueling his. He joined her in bliss with his arms wrapped tight around her.
Their hearts beat in sync as he continued to hold her. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath fanned the skin of his neck, raising chills. He turned to press his lips into her hair. “I love you.” He didn’t know if she heard his soft words, but he needed to say them aloud.
Tempting The Rival (Scandals and Spies Book 3) Page 24