The Captain's Bluestocking Mistress by Ridley Erica

Author:Ridley, Erica [Ridley, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781939713308
Publisher: Intrepid Reads
Published: 2015-03-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Xavier managed to avoid all conversation with Miss Downing until late that afternoon when his stomach growled its displeasure. If he was hungry, she must be hungry. And the snow had yet to cease.

He sighed. They would have to share another meal. Anything else would be impractical. He might as well start cooking.

It was bad enough that his army-honed culinary skills were better suited for a dungeon. Now they’d have to nibble sliced cheese and roasted vegetables while phrases like stiff and erect and she pleasured herself still hung between them.

He ran a hand over his face. He’d thought that his primary attraction to the unstoppable Miss Downing was the very fact of her untouched innocence. Of her managing to be something good and true and pure in a world of war and deception and hate.

Over and over, she’d proven him wrong. Yes, she was both a virgin and good-natured, as expected. She was also clever, confident, and unapologetically sensual. In other words… the perfect woman. For someone else. He swallowed hard.

If only he could stop wanting her so bloody much.

He attacked the cheese with a knife as the vegetables roasted over a fire. Supper wouldn’t be much, but it would be edible.

Three years of hell had taught Xavier never to rely on anyone else’s assistance. Even without his cook present, Xavier’s larder was stocked with enough provisions to keep a non-finicky bachelor fed through springtime. Including a hidden stash of the sweets he’d missed so much while he’d been away.

A young lady like Miss Downing, however, would keep to a higher standard. The back of his neck heated as he realized she might be disappointed in his meager offerings. She must be used to more. Deserved more. But until the snow stopped falling, all she got was him.

To her credit, she voiced no complaints. They even made it through most of the meal without a single mention of inappropriate topics. But as his sultry houseguest popped the last of the after-dinner sweetmeats into her mouth, she fixed her gaze on his with a slow smile.

For the first time in his life, he wished he were a candied pear.

She licked her lips and reached for her glass of wine. “Is the library still restricted?”

“Absolutely.” Every single part of him was feeling restricted, just from watching her tongue moisten those plump red lips. He ground his teeth. Perhaps he ought to open the library back up and lock her inside until morning. “Also forbidden are bed play, whiskey, cheroots, gambling, and eighteenth-century erotica.”

“Everything fun, you mean.” She gave him a teasing pout.

He willed his body not to respond.

“If we’re to entertain ourselves without any physical activities,” she continued, “then we’ll have to make do with conversation. Since we’re snowbound at the moment, surely you cannot object to getting to know each other a little better over another glass of wine?”

God’s teeth. “One glass was enough.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “A cup of milk, then. We can even sit on opposite sides of the parlor.

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