A Lily Among Thorns(85)

He broke away entirely, and she felt cold and naked. Of course, she was cold and naked. She kept her eyes tightly shut. “Not now, Serena,” he said. “I need a straight answer. I need to know you won’t hate me tomorrow.”

She opened her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest instinctively. Did he know how much it would cost her to make that admission? She would regret it, of course, but he was watching her so earnestly, his heavy breathing loud in the silence. The lamplight turned his hair deep gold. It glinted at her from the open collar of his shirt. If he didn’t take the shirt off soon she couldn’t answer for the consequences. And there was something so implacable in his rough voice—he really did care more about how she would feel in the morning, about how she felt, than he did about anything else. He knew what he wanted from her and he refused to settle for anything less.

Something in her responded to his stubbornness, and yet for an instant she wished he were Lord Smollett or one of the others, who wouldn’t ask her to say anything, who would just get on with it. And then she realized what she was thinking and disavowed it utterly and forever, because he was the only person in the world she wanted. Only him, and here he was. She couldn’t quite help smiling. “I’ll only hate you if you stop.”

That seemed to be enough for him. He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, and his dazzling smile made her stomach do flip-flops. Exhilaration tried to climb out her throat as he laced his fingers through hers and yanked her to him.

Then she remembered something. “Solomon, wait.”

“What?”

“I need something from my room.”

He frowned. “You’ll take a chill. Tell me where it is and I’ll fetch it for you.”

“I won’t take a chill.” She reached for her shift.

He caught her wrist. “Don’t put it back on,” he said intently, as if he thought she might not take it off again. “What do you need?”

She gave in. “It’s in the drawer of my night table. It’s a sponge.”

“A sponge?”

She shoved at his shoulder. “Just fetch it. You’ll see.” She sat cross-legged on the bed to wait for him.

He was back in a few moments, staring at the little sponge with its trailing thread. “What’s it for?”

“It’s to keep me from finding myself in an interesting condition,” she explained. “Have you got vinegar?”

Enlightenment dawned. “Of course.” He pulled a small glass bottle from his worktable and, unstoppering it, poured some of its contents into a little dish.

“It is vinegar, and not deadly acid?”

He dipped a finger in the bowl. Before she knew what he was about he was sucking the vinegar off, slowly and teasingly, and heat flooded her even as she made an unconscious noise of protest. But he didn’t scream or blister, so getting off the bed and taking the little sponge from him, she began methodically soaking it in vinegar.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked suspiciously.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. “I stole it from Sophy that time I tried to seduce you.” She hadn’t needed one since she left her last protector. She had vowed never to use one again. Never to be vulnerable again. Never to let anyone see her naked—never to let anyone see her at all. And now here she was. She tried not to think about it.

“Serena—”

“Yes?”

“Why did you try to seduce me?”

Serena eyed him warily, but he just looked curious. “I didn’t want to sleep alone after my nightmare.”

He stared at her. “But of course you couldn’t just ask to sleep in my bed. No, that would be too easy.”

“I hardly think doing it my way would have been such an ordeal,” she snapped, and a little happy grin appeared on his face that made her want to—

“Can I put it in?”

“What?” she asked, startled.

“Can I put the sponge in?”

She looked at it, and at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s interesting,” he said as if it were obvious. “Does it kill the pox, too?”

“I doubt it. You haven’t got the pox, have you?”

He shook his head. “Well, can I?” He looked so fascinated that for an instant, before her better judgment reasserted itself, she was tempted to give in.

“Perhaps another time,” she conceded, and didn’t even realize what she’d said until she saw the glowing flush on Solomon’s face, and then she could hardly regret it.