Cora (Virtue & Vice #4)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

GIDEON

G ideon stiffened as a thrill of excitement zinged through him. The things he would love to teach her. How to wield his stick. How to yield for once in her damned life. The pleasure he would give her if she would stop fighting him for one minute.

He had anticipated resistance of a girlish sort. Easily broken. In the eleven years since he’d derailed her social ascent, she had acquired confidence in herself.

Cora’s eyes narrowed fractionally, and for a fleeting, terrifying moment, he wondered if she could read his thoughts. Then she turned her attention to the table, studying it.

“You hold it like so.” He demonstrated. Cora tried to mimic his cramped hand position, but her fingers wouldn’t bend that way. “Here. Try it like this.”

Gently but firmly, he rearranged her hold on the stick. The contact did nothing to soften the bulge pressing against the seam of his trousers. He didn’t quite dare to bend over her in an obvious attempt to press against her backside. Although he would have thoroughly enjoyed it, he wasn’t ready to risk this fragile peace.

An ache bloomed in his chest. He would do nearly anything to simply spend time with her. Yet time was one thing he did not have. He was too busy cleaning up the mess he’d made for her brother’s bank.

Unease touched the back of his neck. If Cora ever found out what he’d done…

She wouldn’t. There was no way for her to find out. He’d been so careful to keep the rumor from being traceable back to him.

He had her now. That was what mattered. He’d grumbled about her earlier this evening, for he had been tired and hungry and momentarily disappointed about the way she greeted him. Yet his heart had raced when she came to meet him at the front door. He’d been tempted to draw her in for a kiss. But then she’d insinuated that he’d gone to the House of Virtue for sex, and he’d lashed out.

An apology was in order, but offering one now would only interrupt her focus.

He watched Cora practice hitting the white billiard ball a few times. Though her wrapper was tugged tight around her lush body, the neckline gaped open every time she bent over. His body responded with each teasing glimpse of her cleavage. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tapped the white ball ineffectually a few times before finally landing a solid shot.

Her triumphant smile squeezed something near his heart.

“One practice game,” she said. “Then we’ll play for real. If I win, you’ll tell me what you were doing at the House of Virtue today.”

Gideon chalked his cue, considering. “I am not going to start a habit of accounting for my whereabouts to my wife.”

“As long as you’re comfortable with me taking the same privilege.”

A scowl tugged at his features. He was not, in fact, comfortable with her taking the same privilege. Nor did he enjoy having his hypocrisy thrown back at him.

“I’ll win, you know,” he said.

“Possibly.” She tossed her head, and a cascade of thick sable hair went sliding over her shoulder. He wanted it sliding over his bare skin. His thighs. He wanted her gorgeous green eyes staring up at him with that mischievous sparkle as her lips parted to?—

“You can’t win all the time, Gideon.”

He blinked and returned to the present. “I guarantee I’ll win against a neophyte billiard player.”

Unless she was faking her inexperience? Had one of her brothers taught her to play?

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

She twisted to glare at him. “The pleasure of knowing you won.”

“I want a boon. The same as you claimed for yourself.”

“Except that I am unlikely to win, as you rudely pointed out.”

It quickly became clear that Cora was genuinely new to the game. She scratched trying to break the clustered balls. He let her have a second go. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, and it also gave him a second opportunity to watch her bend over the table with that focused expression he found so fascinating.

Her long fingers adapted quickly to holding the stick. Good for piano playing, if she would ever deign to accept his admittedly half-hearted apology for ruining her. He didn’t regret having done it in the slightest. Watching how she picked up the basics of the game like a natural made him realize that it wouldn’t take much for her to regain her long-neglected skill at playing the piano.

Cora snapped the white ball straight into the point of the triangle. Striped and solid balls careened across the green baize.

“Nice shot.”

She straightened, pleased with herself. Still wary of him, however, judging from the way she sauntered to the opposite corner of the table.

“Don’t I get another turn?” she asked when he bent at a slight angle, aiming for the easiest shot.

“No. You didn’t sink a ball. That is the job, Cora. Like…this.” Gideon tapped the red solid into a pocket. “Now I go again.”

Blue followed its brethren into the same pocket.

“Again.”

Yellow.

“Again?” Cora demanded, her annoyance plain.

“Yes, until I scratch.”

Green and orange both dropped into pockets before the purple ball bounced off a rim, just missing his target.

Cora cast him a fulminating glare.

“Now that I finally have a turn…”

She shifted and aimed. Then rethought her position and moved to another ball, before deciding that one was too difficult and choosing a third option.

She scratched on her first attempt, the top of her cue stick gliding over the white billiard. “Damn,” she swore under her breath.

Ladies weren’t supposed to use such language, yet the word slipped out as naturally as if she were accustomed to swearing when frustrated.

Had he married her during her debut season the way he wanted to, Gideon would have ensured she never had a reason or opportunity to learn curse words. He’d have kept her in a cage so gilded it would have blinded her to the harsher realities of life.

Instead, he’d left his little songbird to fly free, and somewhere along the line, she’d learned to deal with hawks like him. He hadn’t expected that. Her resentment, yes. He’d earned that, fair and square. But part of him was frankly astonished that she could walk into a brothel, have a civil and frank conversation about their business, and come away without her composure ruffled.

“My turn,” he snapped, eyeing the unfavorable placement of the remaining balls. “When I win, darling, I want you to answer a question truthfully.”

Her lips flattened slightly, but she tossed her hair back. “Depends upon the question.”

Gideon sank the brown, leaving the purple ball that had eluded him earlier remaining. It was perched on the lip next to the black 8 ball. A risky move, but he was a man who took calculated risks when he was sure it would benefit him. He aimed carefully, conscious of Cora’s gaze upon him, and took his shot.

“Blast,” he muttered as the black ball tipped into the pocket while the purple went spinning giddily across the table.

“Even I know that means you’ve lost,” Cora crowed. “You owe me an answer.”

Minx. He liked her this way. Cocky and unrepentant.

She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing the delectable mounds together. He swallowed. He liked the way he could look her in the eye without crouching or bending down.

“I was at the House of Virtue because I needed the countess’ signature on a document.” He cleared his throat. She tipped her chin, apparently unsatisfied with his answer. “For the bank. They were business partners. Your brother still holds the loan to her property, but she owns a share of the bank. The problem is that she has disappeared. I cannot complete the acquisition without her signature.”

“Eryx never shared with me the details of their arrangement. He guards his business affairs closely. I hope she’s all right. Countess Oreste has always been kind to me. Socially, I mean.”

“You’ll have to drop her.”

“The countess is too connected to drop casually. I’m tired of you and Martha telling me who I can and cannot associate with.”

“We want you to be a success. That’s all.”

“I want that too,” she said slowly, to his surprise. Cora hadn’t acted like it in the weeks since her arrival.

She speared him with a sidelong glance that tore his heart in two as she turned away. He caught her wrist. Cora turned to him expectantly. Gideon thought his molars might crack.

“I…regret my actions that night. I was unkind to you. I want your forgiveness.”

There. He’d said it.

“You haven’t earned exoneration, Gideon.”

She yanked. He held tight, but she did not yield. They hung there, suspended, connected only by his hand on her wrist, as tension stretched between them like a tight wire.

“What would I have to do to earn it? Beg?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

He would never do it. Gideon’s patience snapped. He dragged her in, spiking his fingers into the hair at the back of her neck and crushing his lips to hers. Demanding that she give what he wanted: everything.

She gasped against his lips and he pressed the advantage, backing her up a step and coiling his free arm around her waist. Another step. Her hands came to his chest, resisting, but her mouth opened to him and her tongue danced tentatively with his. She desired him. His cock thickened. He couldn’t think when she was in his arms.

Her ass hit the edge of the billiard table. Gideon bent her backward over it, sliding his hand down the curve of her hip and pulling her thigh up around his. He ground his aching cock into her softest place and savored her low moan.

“Say you forgive me and I’ll give you the stars,” he whispered against her lips.

She shoved his arm ineffectually. With one arm hooked around his neck and bent backward over the table, she couldn’t get leverage to push him away.

“You can’t give me stars,” she said flatly. “All you can give me are empty promises.”

She nipped his earlobe, and Gideon saw red.