//CLARA//
"She carries the Guggenheim na. I wouldn’t want her making a scene that reflects poorly on our house."
Casimir went on, rubbing more salt to the wound.
"Well, you need not worry," Bartholow puffed up like a pigeon in a tuxedo. "Cornelia and I are ensuring she behaves."
Behave? I physically fought the urge to punch him.
Casimir’s eyes flickered to mine, just a fraction, but long enough to see the fire I was holding back as he turned his full attention to Bartholow.
"If that’s the case, I’d better be going. I do not wish to interrupt your pronading."
He turned to leave.
No. Absolutely not.
He’d left to fend off these vultures all morning. I will not be spending another second longer with them.
"Co now, Eleanor." Bartholow offered his elbow and I glare at it distastefully like it was coated in green sli.
I needed an escape. Now.
Without hesitation, I pressed my hand to my forehead and staggered, knees buckling. Operation Damsel in Distress, engage.
"Eleanor!" Bartholow gasped, reaching, but he was too slow.
Casimir’s arm swiftly swept around my waist, gripping too tight, pulling flush against him. I leaned in, letting him carry ninety percent of my weight for extra flair.
I could do this all day if he kept catching .
"Are you alright, my dear?" Bartholow hovered frantically.
I closed my eyes, flawless migraine performance.
"The air... stifling... I want to return ho."
"I’ll fetch my carriage!" Bartholow yelped, already half-turning like a well-trained valet.
I held up a hand, stopping him mid-dash.
"No need." I dug my nails into Casimir’s forearm. Take the hint, step-uncle. "Uncle Casimir can take . Don’t let my fragile state ruin your afternoon."
Casimir’s grip tightened. Ga recognized.
"I’ll take her ho." His statent left no room for argunt. "Tell Aunt Cornelia Eleanor’s with ."
Bartholow hesitated, then a woman with a twirling parasol descended, and just like that, I ceased to exist in his world. Poof. Gone. Forgotten.
Bravo! Truly such a husband material.
Casimir guided away, hand never leaving my waist until the carriage door clicked shut.
The damsel act evaporated.
"You caught on quick." I lounged against the plush seats.
He adjusted his cuffs, but I caught the ghost of a smirk on his face. "You weren’t exactly subtle."
"And you weren’t dumb yourself." I crossed my legs. "I should get an award. Maybe audition for the big screen. I’m that convincing."
His gaze settled on , unreadable. "Next ti, don’t dig your nails into your savior’s arm. It gives away the act."
"Noted." I winked. "Now, where are we going?"
"Ho. You’re supposed to be nauseous."
I groaned. "I’ve been cooped up for days. I’m not rotting in that mansion yet."
His brow arched. "Where do you want to go?"
"Surprise ."
He considered. "I might have an idea."
I grinned. "Now we’re talking."
Inside Casimir’s carriage, the difference was imdiate. Bartholow’s ride was a glorified convertible with bad suspension. This was a bulletproof limousine, glass-paneled, velvet curtains drawn tight.
The city sll still hit like a brick wall. Horse manure and mud. I pinched my nose.
Without a word, Casimir produced a silk handkerchief and crystal vial. One drop on the fabric, then handed it to .
I stared at him, then pressed it to my face. Lavender hijacked my senses.
That’s way too thoughtful of him. My heart imdiately doing sorsaults against my ribs. Get a grip, Clara.
The ride stretched on and boredom set in. Casimir stared out the window, lost in thoughts that definitely didn’t involve —yet.
A dangerous idea sparked inside my head.
Slowly, I turned my legs until my skirts brushed his trousers and waited for his reaction. Nothing. I let my knee graze his thigh, moving upward.
He snapped out of his daze and then glared at . His jaw tightening. Success!
But then, he didn’t pull away.
I grew bolder, trailing closer to his inner thigh, near the unmistakable strain against his trousers. His breath hitched and I can see how his composure started cracking.
I let my leg linger.
Just then his hand shot out, snapping around my ankle. His thumb brushed the bone through my stocking, sending a jolt straight through my core.
It backfires imdiately.
My body scread for more. I t his warning glare with pure innocence.
He planted my leg back on the floor.
I opened my mouth to tease him—
The carriage lurched violently, instantly vaulting off my seat.
"Clara!"
He lunged for . The carriage lurched again. We crashed together.
I landed hard on top of him. My face planted squarely in his chest. Or rather, his face buried in mine. His nose pressed into the lace of my corset.
We froze.
His breath heated through my bodice.
He moved to push up. But adrenaline hijacked my brain. Instead of retreating, I swung my leg over, straddling him, pinning him to the seat.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
I ignored him. Leaned down until my face was inches away.
"Do you want , Casimir?"
"No." His response was instant, voice rasped out and his eyes scread the opposite.
I trailed my nose down his cheek toward his ear. Felt his breath go shallow.
"Liars go to hell." I ghosted the words against his skin.
"I’m saving your virtue, Clara."
Oh, we both know that’s full of crap.
"You know damn well that’s not what you care about." I pulled back, searching his face for the answer I already knew.
I’d read it in the diary. He wanted her. Desperately but he was bound by these stupid rules to stake his claim.
But Eleanor was gone and I hold her fate now. This is the ti to poke the wolf to bare his teeth and make his claim.
"Don’t test my patience. Or else—"
"Or else what?" I snapped. "What can you possibly do to scare off?"
I moved my hips, tightening my hold on his shoulders. The rigid evidence through heavy fabric told everything.
"You’re so stuck on do’s and don’ts. But what about your wants? Your needs? I can feel it. Are you going to deny this to yourself?"
His hands curled on my hips, nails digging through corset. He didn’t push off. He held there, trapped deliciously against him.
"You are a wicked, maddening girl. You’re playing with lightning, Clara."
"I don’t fear lightning." I leaned closer, lips a breath apart. Nose against the rough heat of his cheek with my eyes closed.
If I looked at him now and saw the hunger in him, I’d lose control of this ga.
My pulse was a frantic, high-speed glitch but I forced myself to hold back. For now.
But God, I’m barely holding it.
"I am the storm, Casimir." I whispered. "Are you scared that if you touch , you won’t be able to stop?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers