The Lady's Chocolatier: a Victorian-era romance novella

by Sandra Sookoo

  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 our 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 Six

  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.

  He wiped his lips with a linen napkin and then tossed it onto his now-empty plate. “I must say, it makes me a jot jealous that I cannot compete with a daydream, for by that telltale blush on your cheeks, the man you wool-gathered about must have been impressive. Am I not an interesting companion?”

  Drat and double drat. Why did he have to read her so well, and what the deuce happened to her carefully cultivated mask of coolness that kept her safe from flirtations? “You are. It is just that my mind wandered and I…” She trailed to an awkward halt. Well, I cannot very well tell him I was imagining him naked, can I? Stuff and nonsense, that. He and she were no longer together. She had no right to think about him, sans clothing or otherwise.

  “I hope the daydream was worthwhile.” One of his eyebrows arched with a hint of suggestion, which once more recalled her to his scandalous conversation that afternoon. “Perhaps such a thing might come true.”

  She glanced sharply at him with held breath. Of course there was no way he could possibly know what she thought about. He was not a mystic, nor did he possess magical abilities. Unless his skill with chocolate and confections counted. That brought her thoughts back around to the business of using the melted sweet during intimacy, and once more her cheeks fired. “I rather doubt it will.” It couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. There could be no hanky panky as he called it, for that would urge his gentlemanly soul to make an offer for her. Despite his confession to the brief affair in Paris, Jasper wasn’t a rogue. Regardless of his recent forays into passionate talk or scandalous whispers, he was the proper sort of man she had an abject fear of. And marriage based on being compromised, even if the woman supported such an act, was something she needed to avoid as if her life depended upon it.

  Freedom was more valuable than romance.

  Evangeline sighed and did the unthinkable, something her mother would chastise her about or utter a shocked gasp. She plopped an elbow on the tabletop and rested her chin her hand. Why was life so complicated?

  The sound of his softly cleared throat yanked her back to the moment. “If your mind is conflicted, perhaps talking about what is bothering you will help you through it.”

  Admit to him that she’d conducted lascivious thoughts about him? Not bloody likely. “It is of no consequence.” She waved her free hand, napkin and all. “Forgive me. Perhaps it’s the rain that’s discomfiting me.”

  “Perhaps.” His silver-gray eyes twinkled as if something had amused him. That tiny bit of mirth pulled her in, and she would happily drown if only she would release her control. “In an effort to change the subject?” When she nodded, he continued, “I’ve been meaning to ask you since you landed in my care last night, but what is in the trunk? Since I haven’t brought it upstairs yet and you haven’t asked for it, can I assume the contents are not important to your day to day living?”

  And yet, this new conversation was no less uncomfortable. She straightened her posture, and throwing her napkin onto the table, she nodded. “Uh, there is a spare gown inside.”

  The grin that curved his lips had the breath stalling in her throat. Had he always been so charming? “Is that all? Somehow I do not think a gown and perhaps matching slippers would take up so much space or be as valuable as you claimed upon arrival.”

  She ignored a new wash of heat that slapped her cheeks. Why must he bring out such confusion in her? “There are other things in the trunk.”

  “Such as?” He rubbed his chin while he regarded her with speculation.

  Had he always been so inquisitive? Evangeline worried her bottom lip with her teeth. What was the harm in revealing all? She’d already told him of her occupation. This additional information wouldn’t matter. “Since you must know, the trunk contains my samples. Pieces that are current. I show my clients the corsets, petticoats, combinations. The trunk travels with me wherever I go.”

  “Is that so?” A gleam jumped into his eyes, and she didn’t trust it. “Then, by all means, we must retrieve that trunk.” He launched to his feet and then held out a hand to her. “Will you accompany me?”

  “I don’t see why it is necessary to bring up the trunk.” Yet she slipped her fingers into his palm. Warmth ebbed up her arm from the point of contact, and as he pulled her into a standing position, she stifled a sigh. She had missed the niceties being with a gentleman afforded a lady. When he didn’t release her hand, her mind jogged to earlier in the afternoon when he’d caressed her palm. Renewed shivers skated over her skin and made her extremely aware of him as a man.

  “I’m suddenly gripped with a desire to see the contents of that trunk, my dear.” He tugged her toward the dining room door. “For what else shall we do this evening?”

  The knowledge that Evangeline kept a trunk full of underclothes shouldn’t have aroused him as much as it did. Jasper couldn’t explain why. He only knew that he needed to have a glimpse at those unmentionables.

  Then he slowed in his intent to pull her through his townhouse, for her hand tucked into his was as enthralling as the prospect of having a look at a corset. She willingly let him touch her, hold her—albeit her hand. He glanced at their entwined fingers and moved his gaze upward until it encountered hers.
This was how they should move through life: hand in hand. Heat climbed the back of his neck. What happened if this seduction didn’t bring the results he desired?

  I shall puzzle that out when the proper time comes.

  “Having second thoughts, Jasper?” The question, low-pitched and amused, brought him back to the task before him.

  Did she mean now or his plan to entice her into an engagement? He shook his head. Of course she meant now. She couldn’t read thoughts. Releasing her hand, he tugged on his suddenly too-tight collar. “Second thoughts? Not even close.” He proceeded to the stairwell and plunged down the first flight. “I have an extremely clear mental image of what I want to accomplish,” he continued over his shoulder. “And very little time in which to put my plans into motion.”

  The firm tap-tap of her heels on the wooden stairs behind him confirmed she followed. “What plans would those be?”

  Jasper managed to elude her question until they reached the door that separated his living quarters from the shop space. “Let us say it’s rather vague at this point.” He unlocked and then pulled open the door, which gave way with a slight creak of the hinges. “But I am unapologetically optimistic.”

  “You always were that.” She trailed him into the shop. The trunk waited in the shadows, in the same spot that it had since he’d rescued her from the empty train platform. “It was one of the things I admired about you, that optimism. Inspiring, really.”

  “Do you not still admire that about me?” His quiet question echoed loud in the silent shop. As she pondered the inquiry, he scuttled around to the other side of the trunk.

  “I do,” she agreed with equally whispered tones. “The ability to see the positive in any situation despite the setbacks is wonderful.” A frown turned down the corners of her mouth, and he was seized by the urge to kiss away whatever thoughts caused it. “I have never been able to live life quite like that. Instead, I let the negative things that impact me fester about my mind until I cannot look past that cloud.”