this kind were almost commonplace.
So what held him back? Mia had grown into one of the loveliest creatures he had ever set eyes upon. There were times when all he wished to do was look upon her. Once or twice she had caught him admiring her and he had not shifted his eyes, but had allowed his gaze to linger, even caress her.
His gaze moved to the chess table in front of the hearth. Several nights past, she had opened with the queen’s gambit and immediately sacrificed a pawn—only to get her pawn back seven moves later! He was quite sure it would not be long before she would beat him at his favorite game.
That same evening, Mia had called him stubborn to a fault and he had called her recalcitrant. Exeter exhaled a silent sigh. All he had ever wished for Mia was a happy, normal life. Grow up, meet a solid young man, and marry. Establish a home of her own and children. Everything that was no longer possible for her.
He drained his glass and tried not to think too hard about what he was about to do. Leaving his study, he noted the jump in his pulse, well beyond its usual sixty-eight beats per minute. He checked in with his guests in the parlor. Just Valentine and Jersey hunched quietly over a backgammon board. America had retired early. He walked the perimeter of the room in silence, not unaware of the fact that he was poor company this evening.
Exeter pivoted on his heel and said good night.
He climbed the curve of the grand staircase slowly, not in dread, but with considerable caution. It was very likely this night would change his relationship with Mia forever. They would have to find a new path together, a new way of seeing each other, relating to one another.
There was a possibility, if he handled this experience right, it could open up a whole new life for her. But if things went badly—if she shifted unexpectedly—the experiment could end in heartbreak.
Exeter didn’t bother to turn up the gaslight in his bedchamber. He found his dressing room by feel and removed a freshly pressed cravat from the highboy. Raising his chin, he loosened the tie he wore and slipped it through his collar. With both neck cloths looped in one hand, he collected his medical kit and made his way to Mia’s room.
He rapped quietly before he slipped inside. It was to be expected Mia would be nervous—but he could palpably feel his own anxiety heighten, as he pressed the door shut. He turned around and found her standing near her four-poster bed, wearing nothing but a pale damask counterpane. As she turned, the gossamer quilt fell off one shoulder and the loosely wrapped coverlet parted. Exeter inhaled sharply. A deep angle of exposed flesh invited his gaze. Rounded breasts, and lower—past her navel—a darker hint of curls. She had removed all but the pillows and sheets from her bed, and had lit several lamps and a number of candles. The effect against the pale peach skin tones of her body was mesmerizing.
Twice this evening he had seen her swallow hard. Now it was his turn. “This won’t require a complete disrobing—unless . . .”
“And if a shift happens?” she asked.
“In a heightened state of arousal? I should think I’m either dead or badly maimed.” Exeter winced a bit. “Sorry. You must forgive my poor attempt at gallows humor.”
Mia managed a soft, skittish laugh. “And here I was trying for lovely and seductive.”
“And you are all of that.” He closed some of the distance between them. “But this is not a seduction, Mia—this first time is to be a lesson in how to use your sexual release to control the inner beast.”
She glanced up at him shyly. “I read the notes, Exeter. There is some kind of connection, a state of being that happens during the shifts which correlates to the act of pleasure.”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that you could injure yourself—or me—I would have given you the notes and let you experiment in private. But we need to be careful here. You read the example of the
So what held him back? Mia had grown into one of the loveliest creatures he had ever set eyes upon. There were times when all he wished to do was look upon her. Once or twice she had caught him admiring her and he had not shifted his eyes, but had allowed his gaze to linger, even caress her.
His gaze moved to the chess table in front of the hearth. Several nights past, she had opened with the queen’s gambit and immediately sacrificed a pawn—only to get her pawn back seven moves later! He was quite sure it would not be long before she would beat him at his favorite game.
That same evening, Mia had called him stubborn to a fault and he had called her recalcitrant. Exeter exhaled a silent sigh. All he had ever wished for Mia was a happy, normal life. Grow up, meet a solid young man, and marry. Establish a home of her own and children. Everything that was no longer possible for her.
He drained his glass and tried not to think too hard about what he was about to do. Leaving his study, he noted the jump in his pulse, well beyond its usual sixty-eight beats per minute. He checked in with his guests in the parlor. Just Valentine and Jersey hunched quietly over a backgammon board. America had retired early. He walked the perimeter of the room in silence, not unaware of the fact that he was poor company this evening.
Exeter pivoted on his heel and said good night.
He climbed the curve of the grand staircase slowly, not in dread, but with considerable caution. It was very likely this night would change his relationship with Mia forever. They would have to find a new path together, a new way of seeing each other, relating to one another.
There was a possibility, if he handled this experience right, it could open up a whole new life for her. But if things went badly—if she shifted unexpectedly—the experiment could end in heartbreak.
Exeter didn’t bother to turn up the gaslight in his bedchamber. He found his dressing room by feel and removed a freshly pressed cravat from the highboy. Raising his chin, he loosened the tie he wore and slipped it through his collar. With both neck cloths looped in one hand, he collected his medical kit and made his way to Mia’s room.
He rapped quietly before he slipped inside. It was to be expected Mia would be nervous—but he could palpably feel his own anxiety heighten, as he pressed the door shut. He turned around and found her standing near her four-poster bed, wearing nothing but a pale damask counterpane. As she turned, the gossamer quilt fell off one shoulder and the loosely wrapped coverlet parted. Exeter inhaled sharply. A deep angle of exposed flesh invited his gaze. Rounded breasts, and lower—past her navel—a darker hint of curls. She had removed all but the pillows and sheets from her bed, and had lit several lamps and a number of candles. The effect against the pale peach skin tones of her body was mesmerizing.
Twice this evening he had seen her swallow hard. Now it was his turn. “This won’t require a complete disrobing—unless . . .”
“And if a shift happens?” she asked.
“In a heightened state of arousal? I should think I’m either dead or badly maimed.” Exeter winced a bit. “Sorry. You must forgive my poor attempt at gallows humor.”
Mia managed a soft, skittish laugh. “And here I was trying for lovely and seductive.”
“And you are all of that.” He closed some of the distance between them. “But this is not a seduction, Mia—this first time is to be a lesson in how to use your sexual release to control the inner beast.”
She glanced up at him shyly. “I read the notes, Exeter. There is some kind of connection, a state of being that happens during the shifts which correlates to the act of pleasure.”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that you could injure yourself—or me—I would have given you the notes and let you experiment in private. But we need to be careful here. You read the example of the
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