“You are a danger to yourself,” he muttered, then drew her to him.
The heat of his hand burned her shoulders. His gaze locked with hers and desire shimmered in the air. Something shifted over his face, and she trembled. He wanted her. Constance was sure of it. So why did he hesitate? Her lips tingled with the need to kiss him; did he not feel the same? “Why are you waiting?”
He tensed, then released her.
The hurt that pinged inside switched to annoyance when he chucked her against her chin as her brothers did. She did not want him to possess brotherly affections for her. It could not be so after how he had ravished her mouth before. Was he trying to put distance between them? After all, she was the one who suggested they kiss—twice! Shame scorched her and Constance sucked in a harsh breath. “I…I…misread the situation. I am mortified, I…I thought us being here that—”
Lucan leaned forward and his lips swallowed the rest of her inarticulate stammer. Relief eased the tension from her frame. He wants me. The sensual thrust of his tongue into her mouth set her body alight with wanton desire, and she eagerly responded. He kissed her slowly, deeply, without the raw passion of their first kiss, but somehow it was sweeter, more thrilling.
It was over before it even started as he gently pulled away from her. His breathing was ragged as he spoke. “Behave yourself.” Then as if he could not help himself, he placed another quick kiss on her lips and then whispered. “Revenant.”
The curtain to the box parted as he leaned back in his seat and Charlotte swept inside. Constance could feel her friend’s gaze on her, and she was thankful the box was darkened enough to hide her flushed face.
She had felt a sliver of doubt earlier that she could really make him fall in love with her. Her illegitimacy was always in her mind, though she promised herself she would not dwell on it. She had seen her brother Anthony ravaged by similar doubts when he had fallen in love with Phillipa. Who would really want to align themselves with the Thornton’s bastards? The stain on the person’s reputation and honor would be irreversible. But Phillipa had still fought for Anthony, and Constance slowly started to realize Lucan could not want to take advantage of her perceived inferior connection. Many of the young men from last season had wasted no time in being improper, but Lucan had only behaved like a gentleman. He had made no lurid suggestions, and it was at her teasing he’d relent and kissed her. She wished she knew the reasons he had not declared his intentions, but for the first time she considered her illegitimacy may truly not matter to him. She thought of all the signs Phillipa had told her that indicated a man’s interest.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. Check.
He smiled whenever she smiled. Check.
He laughed when she was being silly. Check.
He kissed her. Check twice.
She frowned in consternation. Phillipa’s exact words had been “when a man is falling in love with you, he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you”. Constance steadfastly discounted the fact that she had hinted for Lucan’s kisses. What mattered was that he had been unable to prevent himself from kissing her.
And best of all, he had given her the secret code. She was sure that was the word he had whispered against her lips. Revenant. He was a charming rogue who made her head spin and her heart giddy with excitement. Constance resolved then that she would not be the one to initiate an intimate embrace between them again. She wanted to be without illusion of Lucan’s regard for her. But she certainly would discreetly allow for ample opportunities if Lucan wanted to steal kisses after he declared himself. She sighed and sank into the cushions, pleased with herself. She was determined to plan her siege of his heart carefully, for she feared she was already losing hers to him.
Chapter Eight
Lucan was dragging his feet. His plan to ruin Calydon had not allowed for him to be in Constance’s presence so much. A few days at most should have been sufficient for him to determine how he would use her to destroy Calydon. And that was the problem. Lucan knew how exactly, but he was reluctant. She had sent him a thank you note after the theatre. To which he had responded with an invitation to the Royal Italian Opera, and teased he held more secrets of Decadence to which she held the bartering chips. That had started a written banter between them, which had now become the norm for them between outings. He had seen her a few times since the opera, and she only drew him further into her spell. They had visited the splendid Kew Gardens and the Royal Academy of Music, where she hoped to attend one day. He learned the lady’s interests were vast and that she spoke several languages. She was refreshingly honest, and kind to a fault. Strong, too. Many young ladies would have already buckled under the disparagement of society.