He stilled, and she thought she saw a flare of triumph in his gaze. And then his focus flicked to the desk behind her, as if he were actually contemplating taking her right then and there. Her knees almost buckled. He took another step, deliberately crowding her between his hard body and the edge of the desk, and she swallowed, almost sick with anticipation. To be pursued with such purposeful intensity was terrifying. And wonderful.
She gave a half laugh, half gasp. “I didn’t mean—”
Without a word, he lifted her by the waist and sat her on top of the desk. The money rustled against his shirt as she splayed her hands on his chest. Her knees parted automatically, and he stepped between them. His body was vibrating with desire, his heart pounding beneath her palm. Only a few layers separated them—his breeches, her skirts. She could feel the heat of him.
Their eyes met and held as he grasped the hem of her skirts and slid his hand over her knee. The rustle of wool and cambric was deafening. Suddenly impatient, Georgie reached up, caught his nape, and tugged his head down to hers. She parted her lips, desperate for a taste of him, just as Edmund Shaw’s jovial shout echoed up the stairs.
“Are you up there, Miss Caversteed? I do apologize. I just went to get some lunch. I wasn’t expecting you. Is there something I can help you with?”
They sprung apart guiltily, and Georgie was sure her own face held the same look of burning frustration as Wylde’s. She cleared her throat and called down.
“No, no, it’s quite all right, Edmund. This was an impromptu visit. I was just giving Mr. Wylde a tour. We must be getting on now.” There was only a slight, betraying quaver in her voice, thank goodness.
Wylde’s hot smile made her pulse skyrocket. He gestured for her to proceed him downstairs. “Quite so. Important things to do,” he murmured as she brushed past him.
Georgie barely remembered taking her leave. Pieter was waiting with the carriage outside, and she got in, scarcely able to look at Wylde as he settled himself on the seat opposite her. Her stomach churned. Where had she found the nerve? She’d actually propositioned him!
The carriage lurched forward, and she kept her eyes on her hands. The silence became almost unbearable.
“When?” His low baritone sent shivers through her.
She couldn’t look at him. Doubtless the other women he’d made such arrangements with knew exactly how this game was played. They’d be bold and flirtatious, breezily confident. She was finding it hard to breathe, caught in a tumult of conflicting emotions.
“Will you come to me at the Tricorn?”
The question was soft, almost lazy. With infinite implications. It made her pulse flutter and her heart pound. She sucked in a shocked gasp. “What, now? It’s the middle of the day! Pieter—”
“Look at me, Georgie.” His tone was teasing, gently amused.
She did what he ordered and was struck once again by just how ridiculously attractive he was. Like some wicked fallen angel. Good Lord, what was she getting herself into? How could she possibly handle a man like this?
“Breathe.”
She let out a sharp exhale.
“Stop worrying. There’s nothing to it, believe me.” His smile made her insides quiver. “You’re going to enjoy every minute, I promise.”
Could a person expire from anticipation?
“Can you get away this evening?” he asked. “I can send Mickey with a carriage. You can slip out and meet him at the corner.”
“I’m supposed to be attending the Evans’ rout, but I could say I have a headache and leave early. Mother won’t check on me until morning if I say I’m going straight to bed.”
“Perfect.” His appreciative gaze roved over her face and lingered on her lips as if he were already imagining the taste of them.
Georgie decided to press her luck. She leaned forward and rapped on the roof of the carriage.
“Yes, miss?” Pieter shouted down.
“We’d like to make a stop on the way home,” she called out before Wylde could speak. “Ore Street in Limehouse.”
Wylde sent her an exasperated look, and she arched her brows at him, suddenly confident.
“We’re going to need something seriously distracting to get us through the next few hours, don’t you think?” she whispered.
He gave a reluctant sigh. “Oh, very well. You shall have your adventure. But I warn you, if there’s the least sign of trouble, we’ll be leaving, understood?”
She sent him a delighted nod of agreement.
