by Dawn Brower
“Theodore, the lady in the corner there. Do you know her?” He gestured with his chin at Evangeline once his assistant returned from delivering her teapot.
“I do not, Mr. Winslow.” His grin was of a smitten youth. “She’s a looker though.”
“Indeed.” Jasper stroked his chin. “She is, in fact, the woman who begged off from an engagement to me five years before.”
The other man’s eyes went round as saucers. “Truly?” His shop assistant knew the story of how the emporium came into being and what had spurred the inspiration behind the heartbreak bonbon collection.
“Yes.” He nodded as confirmation. “Do you know what I’m going to do about that?” His mood elevated, Jasper removed a few soft caramels enrobed in silky dark chocolate from one of the specialty cases. On the top of each chocolate, a few pieces of flaked French sea salt rested. This would enhance the deep and bitter flavors of the sweets.
“Toss her out in the rain?” Doubt hung heavy on the question.
“No.” Jasper gave an indulgent chuckle. He couldn’t keep the news to himself any longer, and in an effort to make certain he wasn’t a fool, he needed to tell someone of his intent. “I am going to seduce the lady and ask her to marry me if all goes well.”
Theodore glanced at the small plate of chocolates in Jasper’s hand. “If I may say, Mr. Winslow, it’ll take a more than a few sweets to win back a lady such as her. She’s one of those sophisticated types, stubborn, the ones who have too much spirit for any man to tame.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, my young friend.” He winked. “You see, I do not wish to tame her. I want to support her in whatever it is she decides to do. I adore that she isn’t like the rest.” That was exactly the key to handling this delicate situation. But first he needed to seduce her, show her a different side of him she didn’t expect but desired, and allay her fears regarding marriage. “Will you prepare one mug of drinking chocolate please? Bring it to her table in ten minutes.”
“I will, Mr. Winslow.” Theodore nodded. “Good luck, sir.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t need luck this time around, for the odds were already on his side. With confidence in his step and a lightness in his heart he hadn’t felt for a long time, Jasper made his way between the tables until he reached Evangeline’s. “Would you care for a bit of company?”
She glanced up, her eyes twinkling like the finest jewels. “That largely depends on the company.”
The wit and charm she exhibited was endearing. “How about me?”
“I suppose you would be acceptable… until someone else of consequence enters.” Evangeline made a show of looking about the small emporium before returning her regard to him. His chest tightened and he forgot to breathe again. “I apologize for not coming downstairs sooner. I slept rather later than I’d intended.” A wash of pink infused her cheeks. “Then I puttered and made use of the bathtub in your wash room.”
Dear God. His mind veered into a dark, shadowy place where her naked body lay nestled in hot, steaming water, perhaps interspersed with clouds of soap bubbles. Heat lanced through Jasper’s body and embedded itself into his groin. His member twitched to life. He quickly pulled out the free chair and sat before he embarrassed himself. “Uh, I’m glad, for I’d forgotten about giving you a tour before we retired.” He forced a swallow into his thick throat. “My home is your home for the length of your stay.”
“Thank you, but I plan to make arrangements to depart this evening.” She took up a teaspoon and stirred the amber liquid that hadn’t been unadulterated by cream or sugar while Jasper’s hopes crumbled around him and panic set in.
“Ah. Well, that is undoubtedly a good idea,” he agreed and leaned back in his chair as if what she did didn’t matter. “Wouldn’t want to give your proper and traditional family the wrong idea about what you’ve been doing. No matter how innocent.” He shrugged and glanced around the room where no one was currently paying them mind. “It’s best to make certain they do not think you’re that kind of woman,” he couldn’t help adding.
A frown marred the perfection of her lips. “What kind would that be?”
“The kind who would indulge in unsavory shenanigans.” He forced a laugh and hoped it sounded as unconcerned as he wished. “Not that there is any sort of that nonsense at play here.”
“I see.” Was that a hint of disappointment in her tone? She took another sip of tea.
Jasper nodded. “Because there is not, what is the harm with staying until the storm passes? No sense rushing into horrid weather out of a misplaced sense of propriety.” When she remained silent, he pushed the plate of caramels toward her. “These are for you.”
“What are they?”
“Soft vanilla caramel enrobed in bittersweet chocolate. One of my most popular sellers.” He leaned forward. “Chocolate is the next best thing to hanky panky a person can get.” Waggling his eyebrows, he lowered his voice. “Or so I’ve been told. Some of my customers have mentioned they’re almost… orgasmic.”
If she thought to depart early without exploring the spark that had once more ignited between them, he’d make certain she was well and truly hooked like a fish. Only then could they begin again, with gusto this time.
Evangeline’s eyes widened and she slowly lowered her teacup. “Is that so?”
He gestured toward the pieces. “Try them for yourself.”
“I… I’m not in the mood for sweets.” She pushed the plate back at him.
“Very well.” Jasper tamped down the urge to roll his eyes. High-spirted and stubborn indeed. He moved his chair closer until his leg brushed hers and the outside of his thigh pressed into hers. “Chocolate is a favorite subject of mine, so let me share some of my knowledge. Throughout the history of Western civilization, chocolate has been reputed as used for aphrodisiacal purposes.”
“Oh?” She laid her teacup into its saucer on the table.
“Yes.” He pulled the plate toward them, took one of the sweets and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “I find it interesting that people have linked chocolate and sexual congress. For instance, the Mayans used the beans of the cacao pod as a way to pay for prostitutes in the early version of whorehouses.” His voice faltered over the word. Discussing such things in front of a lady wasn’t well done of him. As a distraction, he took a bite of the candy, his teeth easily cutting through the chocolate shell and the soft caramel beneath. Sweet and redolent with vanilla and the bittersweet notes of the chocolate, the treat melted in his mouth as he chewed. Once he swallowed, he smiled. “I believe the whore’s rate was eight beans per woman.”
“That is an insult to women.” She eyed the remaining chocolates but didn’t make a move to take one.
“Oh, I heartily agree. Women are worth much more than that, nor should they be used in such a fashion.” He lowered his voice. “Yet women, once aroused and primed for coitus are infinitely more valuable than that, especially if their hearts are engaged during such an intimate act. The men in the Mayan culture should have kept their females steeped in as many beans as they wanted. That’s how valuable such women are.”
Rosy color bloomed in her cheeks. “What would you know about females of low morals?”
“Honestly, not much. My luck with coaxing women into my bed has been quite low. The last time I succeeded was while I was in France learning my craft.” He popped the remainder of the chocolate into his mouth, and around the bite, he said, “I met her at a low point, when all I could remember was you, and the chocolate work I’d attempted that day had failed.” Damnation. What made him confess that? He shrugged and looked away, in the event disgust lit her eyes. “She was French and persuasive. She was also not interested in romance. Once the deed was done, she left, and I felt even worse.” Finally, he found her gaze with his. Shock rolled through him when he encountered nothing except compassion. “Our liaison meant nothing, for she was not you. I was weak.”
“Sometimes, the people we hold in special places of o
ur hearts are not easily banished.” The near-whisper warmed his cheek since they sat so close. “That being said, yours is an understandable story. I never expected you to become a monk.” This time, she took a chocolate from the plate and began nibbling at its corners.
“Thank you.” A sigh left his lips. What she said was as good as a benediction. He offered a slight grin. Best to continue his seduction attempt. “The powerful Aztec ruler, Montezuma, was one of the first virile lovers to tap into chocolate’s alleged strengths.” He arched an eyebrow and couldn’t keep his gaze from her lips as she daintily ate the confection. “There are written accounts that he consumed as much as fifty cups of a cocoa elixir before heading off to service his harem.”
At that juncture, Theodore delivered the mug of warmed drinking chocolate to their table. “Mr. Winslow wishes for you to try this.”
“Thank you.” Evangeline smiled at the young man and took the mug, focusing her attention on Jasper once more. She abandoned her caramel. “Are you trying to use chocolate’s effects on me?” Suspicion warred with amusement in her eyes.
“No. I merely wanted you to try our version of this drink. It’s most pleasing.” He didn’t need chocolate to do the job that his words would. As she sipped the rich, fragrant drink, he moved his leg so that it caressed hers. Heat jumped between them. A wash of pink color stained her cheeks. “Chocolate, especially the melted variety, is pleasurable on the tongue and the senses. It envelopes a person, warms them throughout the body, fires the brain with feelings of goodwill and…”
“And?” Anticipation flooded her voice as she hung on his words.
“It puts them in mind of romance and other… pleasures one can find when one is somewhat undressed.” He left it at that. At least her mind would be primed.
“Ah.” She sipped from the mug and a sigh escaped her once she tasted the drinking chocolate. “This is marvelous. So velvety.”
“Yes,” he fairly purred. “Imagine chocolate like the finest silk. Feel the coolness of the soft fabric as it caresses your skin.” Ever so briefly he touched her hand. She didn’t wear gloves this afternoon, no doubt due to the unorthodox way she’d entered the emporium. “Imagine that rich and velvety warmth if one were to perhaps drizzle the concoction over a lover’s sensitive skin.” Jasper took her free hand in his. He drew circles on her palm, grinning when she gave into a shiver. He lowered his voice, being sure to infuse suggestion into that whisper. Her eyes drifted closed. “Imagine your lover licking that thick, sweet, melted chocolate from the pale slope of your breast, perhaps swirling his tongue around and around your nipple, teasing that stiff peak and coaxing a moan from your perfect lips. He might then drizzle a rich, forbidden path of the melted goodness down your body then, as a gentleman, he would lick your skin clean.”
“Oh my.” She drew in a shuddering breath as her fingers gripped the mug’s handle tighter. Her knuckles whitened. Her eyes popped open. “What then?”
He couldn’t contain his grin. How surprising was her appetite for play, at least through her imagination? Would she be so curious if it were to truly happen?
After glancing about to remain certain no one paid them attention, he continued his verbal seduction. “That lucky man who will have you naked and willing beneath him might employ an artist’s brush to liquid chocolate. He might paint a heart upon your navel, perhaps write endearments along your belly simply for the mere reward of licking and sucking away his handiwork.”
Her hand shook. A bit of the drinking chocolate sloshed over the mug’s rim and she quickly set the cup down. “What would he do then?” The breathlessness of her tone pleased him.
Ah, his darling Evie was hooked. How easy it was this time around now the keys to her heart had been handed to him. “Perhaps he would have another go, or perhaps he would abandon his chocolate artistry in order to kiss you senseless. Once you were properly aroused, he would once more proceed to explore every inch of your skin with tongue and teeth until you begged him to send you flying.”
“Who is this knowledgeable lover?”
“I would have no idea, for you have kept men at arm’s length.” Would that they were not in a public place. He desperately wished to kiss those slightly parted lips. “Only you can choose to let a man so close, and it won’t be such a terrible experience as you fear.”
Please choose me. The trouble with using words to seduce a woman was the speaker couldn’t help but find himself caught up in the same scenario. Jasper was obliged to shift his position on the chair as his shaft hardened and pressed against the front of his trousers.
Another shuddering sigh issued from her. “Is chocolate always this sensual?” Her pupils were dilated, a sure sign of arousal.
“Not always. Most people don’t wish to explore that side of it. To them, sweets are merely sweets and they cannot imagine anything else. Perhaps life has beaten them down until they have no more curiosity or adventure.” He moved his fleeting caress upward and brushed the pad of his thumb over the inside of her wrist, her pulse point. “Which sort of woman are you, Evangeline?”
She came back to herself with a tiny shake of her head. Her eyes widened, the desire fading, and she disengaged her hand from his. “I… I am not sure.”
“A pity, that.” Jasper scraped his chair over the gleaming tiled floor and then he stood. “Well, I should return to work, so I’ll leave you to your tea.” He’d laid the groundwork. The next overture would be hers.
“Jasper?” The whispered word was barely discernable over the din in the emporium.
“Yes?”
“Should I decide to remain for one night more, would you extend your invitation?” Her cheeks blazed with high color.
All of his willpower went into not whooping in victory. Instead, he kept his face an impassive mask. “Absolutely, Miss Bradenwilde. Do let me know what you’ve decided. I shall be around the shop.”
Then he left her company with a new bounce in his step. She still cared for him, he could feel it, and the next phase of seduction would be exciting, but what would happen once the horrible stint of weather passed?
Chapter 6
The rain hadn’t let up by dinner.
This time, instead of taking a late tea in the emporium, Evangeline consented to sharing an actual meal with Jasper in his apartment, where he did have a dining room with a table that surprisingly sat eight people. Located on the second floor—the bedroom and small parlor on the third—the level also featured a decent-sized drawing room complete with a piano, as well as a kitchen and a tiny powder room.
How interesting his bachelor quarters were so decadent that he could entertain should he so desire. The kitchen, as she’d discovered once he’d closed the shop and they’d retired to his living area, was ruled by a housekeeper, who visited the bachelor abode three times a week. Today, she left him a meal of roast beef, sautéed peas and carrots, and creamed potatoes.
As she glanced about the dining room and took in the gilt-framed paintings of water-colored landscapes, the crystal chandelier above the gleaming cherrywood dining table and the shining silverware, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d funded all of these lavish touches or if his had family contributed.
She stole a glance at him as he chased a few peas around his plate, trying in vain to encourage them onto his fork. His suggestive words of earlier still echoed in her ears. When he’d spoken them, did he imagine himself as her lover? Did he wish to do such things to her, and use melted chocolate during intimacies? Had he said those things from experience? Good God, had he employed his confections on another? Her eyes widened. Perhaps, but it was also possible the woman he’d told her of before, the lady in France, had taught him those same things.
The more she ruminated, the more a twinge of jealousy speared through her. It should have been her to lay with him in twisted sheets and experience the heated press of their bodies together. But that moment had passed due to her own foolishness.
Yet, a shiver of need shot down her spine. Such an
inconvenience, reality. Easily rectified in one’s thoughts, where everything was as it should be. No longer did she see him seated across the table from her. In her mind’s eye, she pretended she stood at the side of his bed while he lounged upon it, stark naked. In her hand, she held a wooden spoon. Decadent, melted chocolate dribbled from the utensil onto his rampant and ready manhood. Her mouth watered, and in her fantasy, she tossed away the spoon while lowering her head, tongue ready to lick the sweetness from his—
“Did you enjoy your meal?” The low tenor of his voice interrupted her daydream.
Hellfire and damnation! Never say that he could read her mind. Did pleasuring a man with one’s mouth constitute a meal? Perhaps in some ways it could. And where in heaven’s name had those thoughts sprung from in the first place? Never in her life had she put her mouth—or any other part of her—upon a man’s shaft. How scandalous she’d become in recent days. Yet disappointment crashed over her for the dashed musings that had no satisfying dénouement. The heat in her cheeks remained. “I beg your pardon?” So lost in thought, she had no idea of what he’d said or what he was talking about. “I mean, I wasn’t attending—”
“Woolgathering during dinner, Evangeline?”
“Yes, forgive me.” She shook her head. “I was otherwise occupied elsewhere.” A throb of desire swept through her core. Never had she experienced such a reaction for him. This was Jasper Winslow, of all people! The man who couldn’t summon an ounce of passion if his life had depended upon it, yet here she was, nearly panting after him and having inappropriate thoughts about him when he clearly belonged in her past.
Didn’t he?
“From all accounts, that somewhere else must have been devilishly fun. Pining after a man?”
“No, I…” Still bewildered and beset with vestiges of her wild imaginings, Evangeline floundered. She twisted her napkin between her hands, thankful they were on her lap and hidden from his view.