by Meara Platt
Her eyes widened in surprise. “There are? How?”
His smile broadened, but he emitted a groan that sounded remarkably like one of frustration. “I am not going to show you.”
“But you must, Beast. Please. I have to learn this, and you’re the only one I trust to teach me. We can take it in small measures and stop if the experiment seems to be going amiss. Or you can simply tell me. Or I can perform the experiment on you.”
“You will do no such thing! You are not performing anything on me. Damn it, Goose. Are you purposely trying to rile me?”
Her breath caught. “No! I’m trying to be logical and reasonable about this. I’m trying to be honest with you and give you fair warning of what I plan to do. I’m trying to remain calm and hopeful when every part of me wants to cry in despair for the shambles that will become of my life if I don’t do something to change my circumstances.”
“Goose–”
She tried to draw her hand out of his, but he held firm. Not that she really wished to draw it away. His touch felt exquisite. “No, I won’t be patted on the head and told I am being ridiculous. I have no one to protect me from Lord Gosling, so I must protect myself the only way I know how. I don’t care if it seems foolish to you. All I’m asking is for your help. So, will you give it?”
He looked everywhere but at her and began to shift on his feet so that his response, when it finally came, was not at all comforting. “I will not consider any such thing unless my terms are strictly met. There’s to be no touching,” he said, overlooking the fact he was still holding her hand and running his thumb in lazy circles over it. “And there absolutely will be no tasting. Agreed?”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” He released her hand and now ran his own through his hair in obvious frustration and dismay. Honestly, the man was going to be bald by the time this week was through if he didn’t stop doing that every time she irked him. She seemed to be doing that a lot. But it was his own fault for insisting on setting rules to all her experiments.
“How am I to get the desired results when you are forcing me to abide by rules that are likely to inhibit the very results I am hoping for? How can I experiment with the sense of touch when I am forbidden to touch you? Or taste when I am forbidden to? I’m still not certain how that sense works. I thought it was mostly about kissing and also about food. Are you suggesting it is something more?”
Now he was looking at her oddly, his gaze hot and smoldering. He was angry, to be sure. Yet, he was also feeling something else, hopefully remorse for being so difficult when all she needed was his cooperation.
No, that look had nothing to do with remorse.
That look turned her insides to liquid.
“Stop scowling at me. Why are you so adamantly resistant to the sense of taste? Is it dangerous? Indecent? It sounds like it might be.” She gasped as a sudden shocking thought sprang into her mind. Did it involve him running his tongue over her skin? Good Lord! “Um, is it ticklish?”
She felt a light tug of her hand and realized it was somehow back in his, which made no sense. He was adamant about no touching. So what were they doing now? He leaned closer so that she felt the warmth of his breath against her lips. “Yes, it is dangerous. Yes, it could be indecent, depending on where I taste you. Yes, it could be ticklish, also depending on where I taste you.”
“Mother in heaven,” she whispered, her eyes widening in alarm. Not that she was afraid of him, but she was in mortal fear of what her traitorous body would allow him to do without protest. No wonder he was insisting on rules for these experiments.
He rose abruptly and resumed pacing in front of her. “Damn it, Goose. This is not a fit conversation for us to be having.”
Her hand dropped to her side, but she still felt the warmth of his fingers where they had been caressing her skin. “It is unusual, I will admit. But surely we can approach it scientifically and not be caught up in the results of our experiments.”
He gave a curt laugh and turned to stare at her. “You’re jesting, right?”
“You know I am in earnest. Do stop prowling in front of me. Will you help me or not?”
“Not.” He resumed his prowling.
She shot to her feet and marched over to him, tipping her chin up as she frowned at him. She’d poured out her heart to him, admitting her fear and desperation. How could he refuse her? “Then I will have to find another test subject. I mean, another paragon. I’ll ask Nathaniel or Thad.”
He gripped her shoulders and shook her gently. “Over my dead body.”
“You are no longer involved in these experiments, so why should you care? If you don’t like the thought of my using one of your friends, then I’ll ask one of Poppy’s cousins. Those Farthingale boys will do quite nicely.”
He shook her again lightly. “I repeat, over my dead body.”
She sighed. “Why are you being so difficult? If you won’t do it, then I must find someone who will. Someone who won’t scowl at me every time I open my soul to them.”
“No one is going to touch you.”
Her frown deepened. “Not if you glower at them the way you are presently glowering at me. Honestly, Beast. You really do look like a stalking brute.”
“Give me that book.”
She huffed and clasped it to her bosom. “Over my dead body. Two can play at this game. Although it is no game to me. I need to marry a good man who will protect me from the ills my odious guardian has in store for me. So, will you help me find that man or must I do it on my own? Because I am going to do it. With or without your help. What is your answer? Will you guide and protect me or must I stumble through this by myself? This is your last chance. No negotiation. Are you in or out?”
He ran a hand through his hair.
Honestly, did she overset him that badly? Then he deserved to be bald before the week was through.
His soft growl startled her back to attention. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you. I–”
He held up a hand to cut off the pretty speech she’d intended to give him. “Don’t.”
“Why are you still so out of joint? This is all going to be carefully thought out and quite scientific.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Scientific?” He plucked the book from her hands and set it on the log before drawing her into a copse of trees beside the pond, to the exact spot where he, Thad, and Nathaniel used to disrobe before jumping into the water naked. It was hidden from view of the house and the local pathways. “This,” he said in a husky murmur that had her heart thumping like an excited rabbit’s… or perhaps an excited goose. “This is dangerous.”
“What are you doing?”
“Teaching you the power of touch.” Ever so slowly, he slipped his arms around her waist and drew her gently toward him. He did not force her up against his chest, but her body seemed to naturally go there of its own accord, as though instinctively responding to the heat and hardness of his body.
Her hands slid up his chest and came to rest against his muscled shoulders.
Merciful heavens!
This was so much better than reading a book.
“What are you thinking, Goose?”
“My thoughts?” She licked her lips. “In truth, I don’t think I can put a coherent thought together at the moment.”
He lowered his head so that his freshly shaven, but slightly bristle-rough cheek rested against her own smooth, blushing cheek. His lips pressed softly against her ear as he whispered, “What are you feeling?”
“Giddy,” she admitted.
He placed a soft kiss at the base of her neck. “And now?”
“Oh. Very giddy,” she whispered as her heart began to pound erratically and her blood began to heat. Every part of her ached with wanting him.
He chuckled, but only for a moment before his gaze turned scorching and he began to nibble
kisses along her neck.
“Oh, my! What are you doing, Beast?” Suddenly, the pulse at the base of her throat was not the only pulse in her body that was throbbing.
His big hands, palms open and splayed across her back, began to roam higher. Lower. Everywhere. “Are we still experimenting?” she asked, her voice breathy and hoarse to her own ears.
“Yes. Do you wish to stop?”
“Good heavens, no.” Her heart was still beating wildly as she met his gaze. “What is this delicious thing that’s happening to me? I had no idea a touch could be so powerful.”
“We’ve only just started.”
She licked her lips again. “You mean there’s more?”
He nodded. “This is merely a restrained beginning.”
Overwhelmed by the flood of sensations washing over her body, she said, “I know you’re handsome. That’s the sense of sight. I can feel the heat of your body against mine. Your hands and lips feel warm and wonderful on my skin. That’s the sense of touch.” She took a deep breath. “Sandalwood and leather. That’s the sense of smell.”
He laughed softly.
“There’s an exciting rumble to your deep voice. The sense of hearing. That’s four senses. Would you care to try the sense of taste?” Her own words surprised her. What was she doing? He was supposed to be the test subject, not she. But, praise heaven! She had no intention of stopping him now. Might as well jump in all the way. “What are we to taste?”
His voice was the dangerous purr of a lion. “Each other, of course.”
She nodded. “I’m ready. I trust you. I know you’ll never hurt me.”
He lowered his lips to hers and showed her what he meant to do.
Mother in heaven! Mother in heaven! He was kissing her. Did he realize this was her first kiss? Her one and only ever. She was glad it was with Beast.
She pressed her body closer to his, not recognizing this wantonness in her and trying to make scientific sense of all the sensations exploding inside of her all at once. Touch. She ran her hands up the taut muscles of his granite-hard arms. Scent. She breathed in his male heat that mingled with the fragrance of his soap. Sight. No, she didn’t need to open her eyes to know that Beast was exquisitely rugged and handsome. Hearing. She could hear nothing but the erratic pounding of her heart between her ears and the roar of pleasure coursing through her body.
And now his lips were pressed to her mouth and he was tasting her.
This is what he’d meant, for as she ground her lips to his, she could taste the coffee he’d had this morning. She also tasted the male heat of him, the pulsing urge controlled by his simple brain. The one that drove him mindlessly to mate.
But she was the one driven mindless.
She was the one grinding her mouth against his with desperate urgency.
He appeared to be in full control, slowing her down as he probed and plundered her pliant mouth, his tongue gently parting her lips and skimming along her lower lip before delving in to mingle with her own tongue in a sensual dance.
She slid her hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck. She never wanted to let him go. Perhaps he had no wish to let her go either, for he moaned low in his throat and lifted her up against him, never breaking their kiss. Her feet now dangled off the ground. Her breasts were pressed flat against his chest. Her legs were caught between his, and one of her thighs accidentally rubbed against the male part of him. It hardened and gave a little throb when she rubbed against it again.
He suddenly broke off the kiss and set her down, drawing his hands off her before she’d fully regained her balance. She grabbed onto his arm, but quickly released him. He was angry. At himself, no doubt. He’d taken this experiment too far and he knew it.
“Don’t berate yourself, Beast. The kiss was splendid and it was important for me to know what a kiss felt like.” She tried to sound calm, but her ragged breaths and the heave of her chest probably gave her away. Fortunately, he was not looking at her.
He was too busy pacing back and forth in front of her. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to stare at her. “What do you mean by that?”
She regarded him in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”
He appeared slightly alarmed, but it couldn’t be. Nothing scared Beast. He was a magnificent war hero who had faced death with pride and valor. “To know what a kiss felt like? Have you never been kissed before?”
“No. Never. Isn’t it obvious?”
He groaned. “You ought to have given me fair warning.”
She smiled at him. “You didn’t give me time. Not that I would have mentioned it. I didn’t want you not to do it. Honestly, Beast. This was the perfect experiment. Dangerous, to be sure. But you cut it off before it went too far. And now I finally understand the power of these sensations. They were just words in a book until you kissed me. Then everything became clear. You brought the words to life, gave them the meaning they deserved.”
“It isn’t going to happen again.” He was growling again and pacing around her as though they were both locked in a cage and he was eyeing her for supper.
“It doesn’t have to,” she agreed. “I now understand what I have to do.”
He inhaled sharply and turned to stare at her. “Do? You are not going to do anything.”
“Not to you, of course. But I think you’ve shown me enough to try these out on a man I would consider marrying.”
“Are you daft, Goose?”
She rolled her eyes. “I am not going to go about kissing every man I see.”
“You are not going to do anything to any man. At all. Ever.”
“Ever?” She turned away and marched back to the log, picking up the book and making certain to hold it close to her chest so he couldn’t dispose of it. Although, after that kiss, he might not feel constrained about groping her in order to get the thing out of her grasp.
But no, Beast was ever the gentleman. She could see he was troubled by the result of his experiment. Well, he shouldn’t have kissed her. He knew it was dangerous. He’d warned her about it himself.
And then he’d kissed her anyway.
“You can’t take back the kiss or any of the sensations you made me feel,” she insisted, now growing impatient with him. “Stop scowling.”
He frowned at her before turning away to stare across the pond. “I’m not scowling at you.”
“Then stop scowling at yourself. You haven’t ruined me.” But she realized that was not so. Society would have considered her a soiled dove and no longer marriage worthy had they been caught. “No one saw us. Your bachelorhood is quite safe. So is my reputation.”
She walked to his side when he did not respond.
He barely acknowledged her presence.
She sighed. “Will you never speak to me again? I don’t know why I should be the one punished for what you did. You went about this experiment all wrong. Even I know that.”
He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “How was it wrong?”
“That would be obvious if you’d read the book. But I’ll tell you, since I’ve read it. These senses are powerful. They are like explosives in an untrained person’s hands. You knew it, and yet you didn’t hold back. You relied on your experience to summon the power of all five senses at once. And our kiss is what came out of it, one that completely overwhelmed my sense receptacles and yours as well. You hadn’t expected that part or you would not be so overset now.”
She paused a moment to study him, but he was still looking away. “You have only yourself to blame for treating this experiment like a battle assault and coming at me with all guns blazing. If you don’t think I’m ready to try these experiments out on someone else, then I think we must take it slower. Arousing only one sense at a time. And you are not to use me as the test frog. You are the one to be tested.”
He cast her the oddest look.
Wordlessly, he turned and walked back to the house.
“Does this mean you won’t be my test frog?” She sank b
ack onto the log still clutching the book and losing all hope when he refused to respond. “Well done, Goose. Now he’ll never speak to you again.”
But she knew it was more than that.
Beast was never merely a specimen to be poked and prodded and studied.
He was the paragon. The grail. The knight in shining armor every girl wished for. He was the knight in shining armor who’d just kissed her.
Her eyes began to water.
And with that kiss, her knight in shining armor had stolen her heart.
She was falling in love with Beast. How was she to stop herself?
Did The Book of Love have an answer for that?
Chapter Nine
Beast was halfway back to the house when he realized Goose had not followed him. “Bollocks,” he muttered, knowing he ought to leave well enough alone and march inside. But he couldn’t allow matters to remain the way they’d been left between them.
He stopped and looked back.
She sat on the log, her face buried in her hands and her shoulders slumped. The sight of her looking so forlorn struck him with the piercing force of a lance through the heart. Why couldn’t she be stomping and angry? Why couldn’t she be cynical and manipulative? No, she had to be his Little Goose. Soft and vulnerable. In her innocence, trusting him so completely. And what had he done? Immediately crushed her heart.
“This is my fault.” What had possessed him to kiss her? Of all the stupid things he’d ever done in his life, this had to rank among the stupidest.
He strode back to the pond and sank onto the log beside her. “Goose, don’t cry.”
She glanced up, obviously surprised he had returned, and then shook her head. “I’m not crying. I have no tears left inside me.”
Great. She was the last person on earth he’d ever wish to hurt, and he’d just torn her heart to pieces. “What can I do to make amends?”
“Nothing.”
“Goose–”
“Go away.”
“Not a chance.” He put his arm around her and drew her close. “Talk to me.”
“I am talking. I’m telling you to go away.”
