a
bewitching smile now curving her edible lips. He gazed at her, transfixed,
unable to put the physical distance between them that he knew he should. That
he knew he should want . Yet did not.
“In all ways.” Her ice-blue eyes sparkled with what he could
only determine was mischievous glee. “You surpassed all my expectations,
Gawain. Thank you.”
Women, both Celtic and Roman, had said all manner of things
to him in the moments after copulation but Antonia’s whispered confession
rendered him speechless.
Logically he knew she was only spinning him a practiced line
she had mouthed who knew how many times in the past. But she seemed so genuine.
The knowledge that she could so easily manipulate his good sense with a few
enigmatic words irked him.
“It was my pleasure.” This time he managed a thread of
mockery, although Antonia did not appear to register it. With a reluctance that
disgusted him, he finally pulled free of her welcoming clasp. “I’m gratified I
exceeded the efforts of your Roman lovers, Antonia.” Except he wasn’t
gratified. He was irritated by the comparison and couldn’t fathom why.
She did not answer him but a small smile lit up her face, as
though she were recalling the performance of all her lovers and still found him
exceptional. Again, he couldn’t imagine why such a thing should touch him. He
did not normally care if the Roman women he fucked reminisced on how different
he was from their usual illicit distractions.
And then it hit him. It was because she had thanked him, as
though he had merely provided her with an entertaining service.
His illogical mood blackened further. Why did it matter if
that’s what she thought? It was, after all, mutual.
“Oh,” she said, the word breathy and seductive and to his
disbelief his cock stirred in primal response. “Yes.”
Yes? He trawled through his mind until he recalled his last
remark. “Perhaps in the future, my lady, you can teach them the pleasurable
tricks you learned from your Cambrian lover.” He used the Roman word for
his land deliberately, loading it with disdain.
It had to be a trick of the sunlight streaming through the
windows, but it appeared her smile lost some of its radiance and a haunted
expression clouded her eyes. She crossed her ankles and a shiver chased over
her body, and in that blink of an eye, her air of sensual seductress
transformed into reserved vulnerability.
“Perhaps.” There was no trace of the teasing note she’d used
earlier, or the dreamy quality that had so riled him a moment ago. She sounded
as cool and remote as she had the day they had conversed in Carys’ courtyard.
With a muttered curse in his own language, he snatched up
another Roman towel and draped it around her shoulders. He had no idea why. It
wasn’t as if she were incapable of wrapping herself in a towel if she was cold.
And he certainly wasn’t her slave to anticipate her every demand.
She glanced up at him, clearly startled, and instead of
stepping back as had been his intention he remained rooted to the spot,
gripping the edges of the towel across her breasts.
“Thank you.” She sounded uncertain, and an odd pain spiked
through his chest. He didn’t want her chilly patrician façade. He wanted the
Antonia who teased and flirted. If that meant she wanted to maintain her
incomprehensible illusion of innocence she projected so flawlessly, he would
play along. It was a small concession for the pleasure they had just shared.
A pleasure he had every intention of enjoying again. Soon.
He shoved the lingering remnants of his dark mood into the
back of his mind. His reaction still made no sense, but he wasn’t going to
waste time mulling over it.
“I don’t want you catching a chill and being confined to
your father’s townhouse for the next week.”
She pulled the towel across her thighs and then looked up at
him. “It would take more than a chill to keep me confined, Gawain.”
His lips twitched. It was so much
bewitching smile now curving her edible lips. He gazed at her, transfixed,
unable to put the physical distance between them that he knew he should. That
he knew he should want . Yet did not.
“In all ways.” Her ice-blue eyes sparkled with what he could
only determine was mischievous glee. “You surpassed all my expectations,
Gawain. Thank you.”
Women, both Celtic and Roman, had said all manner of things
to him in the moments after copulation but Antonia’s whispered confession
rendered him speechless.
Logically he knew she was only spinning him a practiced line
she had mouthed who knew how many times in the past. But she seemed so genuine.
The knowledge that she could so easily manipulate his good sense with a few
enigmatic words irked him.
“It was my pleasure.” This time he managed a thread of
mockery, although Antonia did not appear to register it. With a reluctance that
disgusted him, he finally pulled free of her welcoming clasp. “I’m gratified I
exceeded the efforts of your Roman lovers, Antonia.” Except he wasn’t
gratified. He was irritated by the comparison and couldn’t fathom why.
She did not answer him but a small smile lit up her face, as
though she were recalling the performance of all her lovers and still found him
exceptional. Again, he couldn’t imagine why such a thing should touch him. He
did not normally care if the Roman women he fucked reminisced on how different
he was from their usual illicit distractions.
And then it hit him. It was because she had thanked him, as
though he had merely provided her with an entertaining service.
His illogical mood blackened further. Why did it matter if
that’s what she thought? It was, after all, mutual.
“Oh,” she said, the word breathy and seductive and to his
disbelief his cock stirred in primal response. “Yes.”
Yes? He trawled through his mind until he recalled his last
remark. “Perhaps in the future, my lady, you can teach them the pleasurable
tricks you learned from your Cambrian lover.” He used the Roman word for
his land deliberately, loading it with disdain.
It had to be a trick of the sunlight streaming through the
windows, but it appeared her smile lost some of its radiance and a haunted
expression clouded her eyes. She crossed her ankles and a shiver chased over
her body, and in that blink of an eye, her air of sensual seductress
transformed into reserved vulnerability.
“Perhaps.” There was no trace of the teasing note she’d used
earlier, or the dreamy quality that had so riled him a moment ago. She sounded
as cool and remote as she had the day they had conversed in Carys’ courtyard.
With a muttered curse in his own language, he snatched up
another Roman towel and draped it around her shoulders. He had no idea why. It
wasn’t as if she were incapable of wrapping herself in a towel if she was cold.
And he certainly wasn’t her slave to anticipate her every demand.
She glanced up at him, clearly startled, and instead of
stepping back as had been his intention he remained rooted to the spot,
gripping the edges of the towel across her breasts.
“Thank you.” She sounded uncertain, and an odd pain spiked
through his chest. He didn’t want her chilly patrician façade. He wanted the
Antonia who teased and flirted. If that meant she wanted to maintain her
incomprehensible illusion of innocence she projected so flawlessly, he would
play along. It was a small concession for the pleasure they had just shared.
A pleasure he had every intention of enjoying again. Soon.
He shoved the lingering remnants of his dark mood into the
back of his mind. His reaction still made no sense, but he wasn’t going to
waste time mulling over it.
“I don’t want you catching a chill and being confined to
your father’s townhouse for the next week.”
She pulled the towel across her thighs and then looked up at
him. “It would take more than a chill to keep me confined, Gawain.”
His lips twitched. It was so much
Similar Books
