Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel) (22 page)

Their connection went beyond normal reasoning and understanding, which was, she considered for the first time, the reason why neither of them had been able to wrap their brains around the matter. Not because they lacked a desire or connection, but because the connection went beyond the edges of anything they’d ever imagined or dreamed was possible. It went to a place where all logic and reason ceased to exist. And this moment was bringing them to that place once more.

Caught off guard in this chance meeting in such a thoroughly unexpected setting, unable to prepare or anticipate for what might come, they were swept into the essence of their true feelings. The pure, raw emotion of all they were together.

He touched her without even moving, the very spirit of his life reaching across the room to comfort her and hold her tight.
My Ellie
, it whispered to her in tiny vibrating rhythms. And as she breathed deeply now, time passing by immeasurably, their eyes locked with pulsating energy. She knew for the first time in her life that she was truly alive and nothing would ever be the same again. And she didn’t want it to be the same.

But she did want answers. What else was lurking behind those meadows of eyes?

“Oh? Oh, what?” Amelia questioned as she looked up, recognizing the change in Ellie’s demeanor and the adjustment of energy in the room. “What’s going on, Ellie?”

Ellie didn’t like lying. It put a grit in her teeth. But she told herself that sometimes lying was necessary for the greater good. Like making an old woman with low self-esteem feel beautiful… or safeguarding the only thing that was real in her life. As much as she wanted answers this was not the time or the place.

“Well, that is to say—” Ellie cleared her throat, searching for something that would explain all of this away.

“I haven’t had many dealings with seamstresses and I’d been told they were foul creatures, in both demeanor and features. Or else why should they take on such a profession?” He grinned. “It appears I was very ill informed.”

He
would
take to his comfortable roguish charm to diffuse the situation. Ellie felt her lips twitch at the two-fold purpose. He’d find ease in this old friend and it would guide him smoothly through the situation, while she’d find a plethora of writhing sensations that made her squirm.

Infuriating man. She wanted to throw herself around him and never let go.

“Well, I never! Have you… ever?” Amelia proclaimed in mock reproach.

“Oh, surely not.” Ellie said leaning into Amelia and lowering her voice, but not so low that Cal would not be able to hear. Two could play this game. Or at least two could try anyway. “But what else might we expect from such an obvious rake?”

“
Ellie!
” The usually forward Amelia nudged Ellie with her elbow. “
He’ll hear you!
”

“I hope that he does. Perhaps he’ll learn to have more respect for women,” she added, trying to sound confident and calm. But when she saw the corner of Cal’s lip twitch she knew that he was looking through to her core as he always did. She felt remarkably exposed, but in a good way. And it made her heart flutter.

Amelia, on the other hand, was entirely oblivious to what was happening right in front of her eyes. She let her jaw gape. To the best of Ellie’s knowledge and contrary to the presence she put forward, Amelia did not actually have any first-hand knowledge of men, and certainly not men like Cal.

“But…” Amelia’s eyes were wide as saucers and in an amusing turn of events she seemed unable to find her words.

“No need, pretty one. This room is far too small to pretend we won’t soon be intimately acquainted. Now,” he clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Where shall I undress?”

Amelia, the poor girl, opened and closed her mouth twice but still no words came out. Instead she gestured with her arm for him to come closer.

Cal took each step, slowly and surely in their direction, eyes slit, hands deftly unfastening the buttons of his coat and vest. Amelia was too preoccupied with composing herself to notice that Cal’s eyes never left Ellie. They danced around her form with bright veracity, playing at her every curve and line with a wild mischief, before landing again on her own intense gaze.

“Will this do?” he asked as he came to a standstill mere inches from Ellie. He positioned himself between the two women, his back to Amelia, and shrugged off his jacket and vest. Before Amelia could even think about taking the garments, Cal dropped them to the floor. An upward rush of air stirred up the wild scent of his body that Ellie had come to love so much.

From behind Cal, Amelia shook her head, gulping. “I think that may be too clos—”

“This is fine,” Ellie said to Cal with a soft exhale of breath. And then to Amelia, “This is fine. How will I be able to repair his shirt if he’s several feet away from me?”

“Well, he could take his shirt off…” Amelia pondered, in a manner that indicated she was slowly returning to her usual sensibilities.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ellie remarked swiftly. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much she wanted to see Cal’s full form, unencumbered by dress, but she knew that to do so right now would pose a serious risk. This was a delicate enough situation as it was and she struggled to hold onto her bearings.

“Are you certain?” Cal softly raised one eyebrow and tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

“Well, on second thought, Ellie. Why don’t you just let me he—”

“No,” Ellie interrupted, placing her palms firmly against Cal’s hands to stop him. He looked down to their touching hands and then up at her eyes, wrapping his right pinkie finger around the edge of her hand, stroking, and joining it with hers. She returned the motion with her own fingers. The soft area between her legs fluttered with tiny, electrifying spasms. Ellie took one abrupt intake of breath and jerked her hands away from him, sharply.

He bit his bottom lip and titled his head again, eyes caressing her up and down in soft, satisfied strokes. She almost lost it right then and bit his bottom lip too. He spoke before she had a chance.

“So what do you think?”

“About… what?” Her heart was racing and her mind was feeling muddled and languid.

“About the tear. What else?” He raised his left arm above his head and leaned to his right exposing a small two inch tear along a seam on his left side. His skin was visible through the rip. “Can it be repaired?”

“Do you need my help, Ellie? Perhaps I could—”

“No,” Ellie interrupted once more. She would not have anyone else touch him in her presence so long as she could help it. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“Fine.” Amelia crossed her arms and turned her back, walking to the far side of the room, where she dropped down into an oversized chair with an exaggerated
humph
.

“Now, let me get a better look at this.” Ellie stretched out the fingers of her right hand, her palm open and parallel to his chest. She drew in her breath as if waiting for the right moment, only to realize that there never would be one, especially under these circumstances. And with that she laid her palm against the crisp linen of his shirt. At first she just let it rest there feeling the sharp contours of his sculpted muscles. A tiny tremor vibrated through him, sending heat and energy into her. She felt the pounding of his heart under her hand and the way that it sped up the longer she touched him. Her fingers curled one by one, digging into his chest, until the vibrations of his pulse echoed against her. It felt like she was holding his heart in her hand.

He exhaled deeply as if to soothe his racing pulse but Ellie knew there would be no relief for either of them as long as they were touching. And she was pleased with that. He reached his hand up to cover hers but she deftly pulled away, walking her fingers to the right across his chest, pressing firmly into him each step of the way. The mass and strength of him flooded her with a magnificent shudder and caused her to pause, palm pushed flat against his side. She did not want to stop touching him.

She wanted to touch him with both hands, fingers grasping and pressing, going out and down, lower and lower, exploring every inch of him until she knew it all. Instead, somehow, she governed that desire, and ran her shaking hand down his side stopping at the rip in his shirt. She folded her fingers around the edges of the soft fabric, nails scrapping against skin, fingers fluttering on the flesh. He was warm and soft and man. And hers. Somehow, hers. She wanted more—
no
, she dared to think,
she
needed
more
—and she prayed to the universe for sweet compliance.

“You find my friend pretty, do you?” she asked softly, not immediately sure why she wanted to know. The words he had used for Amelia—pretty one—had made her burn and writhe, but Ellie realized after a moment that this had been his intention. He wanted her to squirm for him and claim possession.

“Oh, yes,” he answered, confirming her suspicions with a low purr, “But pretty is a comparative word, used to preserve face in the presence of others… I couldn’t very well tell the girl that she is overshadowed by her company, could I now?”

Ellie’s mouth quivered as a low moan escaped. Her skin flashed with red and she cleared her throat, looking over Cal’s shoulder to make certain that Amelia was still pouting, obliviously, on the far side of the room. She was, thankfully.

“Begging your pardon…
sir?
” she asked, trying to extract some small answers.

He smiled at her ferocity but shook his head as always.

“My lord?”

He shrugged. “But give it a try anyway, and see how you like it.”

She accepted and continued on. “Well, then.
My lord.
” She liked the feel of that on her lips as much as he appeared to like the sound of her saying it. “You seem far too pleasurable a sort to be the escort of one such as…
her.
”

“One must sometimes be party to less favorable of sorts, when looking for the most influential.” He tilted his head. “Does that make sense?”

Ellie nodded her head, a small smile making its way across her face as she remembered what he’d told her before about knowing influential people.

“That’s what you think of me then? As pleasurable?”

Ellie lowered her head and whispered into his chest, “Yes.”

“Hmm,” he crooned. He took her chin in his hand raising her head, and then he leaned down nearly pressing his cheek flush against hers. “Already? Just you wait…” he whispered in her ear.

Ellie’s heart jumped up into her throat and she felt her knees shake beneath her. He took hold of both her arms to steady her but that only made matters worse. Grinning, he pulled her in closer.

“How is the seam?” he asked after a moment, his warm breath tickling against her neck and ear. “I should hate for
her
to find me in such a state again.”

“Oh,” Ellie said, realizing that until this point she had done nothing more than relish in his touch. She would need to actually fix the seam and step away from him before they were seen. She was being a damn fool, they both were, but something about that made her love what was happening all the more.

Grudgingly, she set her eyes and hands to the task at hand, examining the seam for the quickest and most efficient way to repair it. “It will be a simple repair,” she said at last. “I’ll just need a needle and some thread. I have those in my bag right over—”

He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t move away. Don’t you dare.”

“Then how will I—”

“You!” he called behind him. “Pretty one!”

Ellie saw Amelia’s head pop up and look in their direction. “Me?” she asked pointing to her chest. “I’m of use now, am I?”

“Yes,” Cal answered. “The lady here needs a needle and thread to repair my seam.”

“And why can’t she get it herself?”

“Amelia!” Ellie retorted through shallow breaths. And then in a whisper to Cal, “
Why can’t I get it myself?
”

He shrugged and smirked scandalously.

“Sorry…” Amelia sassed as she stood up and raised a brow in Ellie’s direction. “Are you all right? You’re acting remarkably similar to when you’ve been running around with your handsome mystery man...”

Cal’s eyes lit up. “
Handsome mystery man?
” he mouthed.

“
She’s coming. You have to let go,
” Ellie mouthed back.

He moved his hand from her wrist and plaited his fingers together with hers.

God in heaven. Ellie wanted to tip back her head and whimper out loud.

“Where’s the needle and thread?” Amelia asked.

Ellie just jerked her head to the right.

Amelia scoffed. “And why can’t you get that yourself?”

Ellie opened her mouth but no words came out.

“Because she’s holding the seam in place,” Cal offered. “Of course.”

“Of course,” Amelia muttered as she walked closer.

Ellie looked down at her fingers, still joined with Cal’s. He squeezed her hand, and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her palm. She never wanted him to let go. She wanted him to hold her deeper and closer, but she also felt a sudden panic. She tried to pull away and he shook his head, grasping to her hand with a more powerful need. Amelia was almost upon them and Ellie tried once more, still to no avail. Her pulse throbbed in her veins and in that moment she decided that if her life was going to hell anyway, she might as well enjoy the journey. She closed her eyes. She pressed her hand into his with all her might.

And he let go.

“Is this all you need, then?”

Ellie looked to her right, where Amelia was now standing, holding out the needle and thread with an annoyed look in her eyes. She hadn’t seen anything. Ellie nodded her head, taking the already threaded needle from Amelia.

“Should I go back to my corner then?” Amelia pointed over her shoulder.

“No.” Cal said abruptly. “You should stay. She may need your help.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Oh, I’m sure.”

Ellie gave him a quick glance. Her muscles were tender in places that she hadn’t even known existed. Every nerve of her body was tingling to touch him. Why was he doing this?