Lessons After Dark (16 page)

“We should go,” Olivia said quietly, glancing over Gareth's shoulder to where the Grenvilles were talking. “They'll tell us what happened later, and…”

Gareth turned his head to follow her gaze, looked back, and spoke quickly. “Right. Yes.”

He was grinning, and Olivia wasn't sure he knew it. She wasn't surprised. One never used just enough power to solve any problem. Dr. Gillespie had told her as much, and she'd found out through experience. Either one drew too heavily on reserves and ended up exhausted, or just enough remained to be energizing…and more than a little intoxicating. If Olivia was any judge, Gareth had just experienced the latter effect on top of the former.

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. Poor man. In so very far over his head. And doing quite well for all of that, she had to admit.

Outside, Mrs. Edgar and a few of the other servants solemnly watched them emerge. Olivia fought the urge to laugh again. She realized she was not exactly at her soberest either. She managed a relieved smile instead. “Everything should be fine now,” she said. “Mr. Grenville's…recovering. They'll want privacy for a little while, but then some food and wine would probably be welcome.” She pulled her thoughts into order. “The students—”

“Violet's sitting with the girls, ma'am, and Henry's keeping an eye on the boys.” Mrs. Edgar looked between Olivia and Gareth. “Perhaps you and the doctor should sit down somewhere for a while as well, ma'am.”

They should, and should also probably try to talk about what had just happened. Certainly it wasn't wise to leave Gareth alone just now. He seemed mostly in his right mind, but God knew what the remnants of outside power would do in someone with natural talent.

Now that Olivia thought about it, she realized she
hadn't
really thought about it. Not before feeding Gareth the power. She swallowed and told herself whatever she might have done was certainly better than what the curse would have done to him and Mr. Grenville.

“We'll be in the library,” she said. “Bring tea, please, when you've taken care of the Grenvilles.”

She smiled, turned, and walked down the hall. Walked
straight
, moreover, which was an excellent thing. Power wasn't intoxicating in quite the same way alcohol was, but the euphoria could play havoc with motor control from time to time, just as it could do the opposite. Gareth was following her with a certain graceful speed, though he still limped somewhat.

Naturally, grace was a matter of perception. Power heightened that as well.

Olivia took a deep breath and headed for the library. Hopefully there'd be plenty of distraction there.

***

Sitting down didn't suit Gareth. He tried it for a moment or two, long enough to fill his cup of tea, then stood up, teacup in hand, and walked to the window. It was raining outside, again. Pity: he could have done with a walk.

He could have done with a number of things.

Some of the electricity racing through his veins was mortal enough, he knew. He'd felt it on those few occasions when battle or a hard task hadn't left him completely exhausted. He was alive, the foe was vanquished, and a very primitive impulse in him said:
celebrate
.

It had never been this powerful before. Gareth felt sixteen again, though with none of the nervous clumsiness that had been his portion as a youth. No, he felt like his hands could move with the speed of thought, that he could have taken the wind itself in a footrace, that—

“There is,” Olivia said, “a reason why many of us turn to opium eventually.” She was trying to be crisp and sober. Her voice held amusement, though, and deeper, more sensual notes.

Gareth gripped the windowsill and didn't look at her. Power hadn't done a damn thing to enhance his self-control. “I'd imagine so,” he said hoarsely.

Behind him, Olivia cleared her throat. “Do you know what—?”

“No.” Gareth swallowed, put his teacup down on the windowsill, and tried to collect his thoughts. “Mrs. Grenville said it might have been a curse, but she didn't sound certain.
I've
certainly never seen anything like it,” he added. “My experience of such things is limited.”

“I'd imagine,” Olivia said. There was a faint rustle of cloth. She was moving, not entirely at ease. “But your own talent—”

“Started when I was fourteen.” This particular string of memories was relatively safe. “Old enough to know it wasn't normal. I…tried to ask some questions, look things up, but didn't get very far. Until I met Simon, I had no real idea how the unseen world worked, not beyond me.” Gareth laughed and shook his head. “And my own skills are…lacking. I taught myself. I'm bound to have missed a few points.”

“Or found a few nobody would think to look for.”

Gareth wondered if she'd used the same calm tone of encouragement on her marks back in London, and then if she used it on the students now. “You don't have to be kind,” he said sharply. “Not to me. Lord knows I've never…”

Been
kind
to
you
were going to be the next words, but Gareth stopped himself. That sounded like apology, and he had nothing to apologize for.

A few seconds passed without a response. He could picture Olivia but wasn't certain how she looked. Had his temper stung her? Amused her? Was she wearing that carefully blank expression now, the one that spoke of being a grown woman and a professional, and so above reacting to him?

He was on the verge of saying something else when she spoke.

“I suppose you'd call healing my leg medical obligation. And my wrist. So let's assume I was speaking from professional obligation as well, shall we?” Her voice was low, firm, and closer. Not in his ear, but nearby. “I've never said anything to you out of charity, Dr. St. John. But I have no wish to insult you either.” She paused for a second, did not say
most
of
the
time
, and then went on. “Or to withhold praise where it's due.”

She placed one hand on his shoulder. “You did good work up there.”

Olivia's touch was light. She had probably meant only to make glancing contact, as one colleague to another. Her body was close to Gareth's, her scent light and sweet, and the energy had been building in his body for what seemed like ages. The feel of her hand simply lit the fuse.

Before she could pull away, Gareth reached up to catch her hand in his. Her skin was warm beneath his palm. He could feel her pulse racing against his fingertips.

He turned in a quick motion that felt like it took days, and pulled her to him.

***

In the second before Gareth's lips met hers, Olivia knew she'd been expecting that to happen.

Oh, not consciously. She hadn't
planned
it. Retreating to the library really had seemed the most sensible thing to do at the time, and it would have been unwise to leave the man alone. But given what had already happened between them? With the aftereffects of magic further eroding their self-control? Some part of her had known what would result.

Just then, nothing could have made her object.

Gareth's tongue slid into her mouth, stroking hers. One hand roamed down to the base of her spine, while the other cupped the back of her head. He held Olivia against him firmly, but there was no haste to his movements. Even through the layers of their clothing, she could feel the heat and hardness of his body very well.

No hesitance either. Deliberation, rather…and challenge.

Olivia welcomed it.

She let herself laugh, low in her throat, letting Gareth know she was on to his game. Then she broke the kiss, reluctantly at first, and then less so when she trailed her lips up Gareth's neck. He caught his breath, and his grip tightened.

Then he started unbuttoning her blouse.

That was a bold enough move to make Olivia pause, not in reluctance, but in surprise mixed with pleasure at his touch. Gareth's fingers had just grazed her breasts as he brought his hand down, but even that brief contact was enough to make her ache for more.

Not that she would ask for it.

Instead, Olivia traced the outline of Gareth's ear with her tongue, nibbled on his earlobe for a second—
definitely
a stifled gasp there, which she counted as a point to her score—and began undoing Gareth's buttons. The coat and vest parted easily enough, but she had to lean up to unfasten his necktie. That movement pressed her body very closely against his. Through her skirts, she felt his erection pushing against the juncture of her thighs.

Her own response was instant: wetness and heat and the urge to moan. Not yet, though. Not before he did. Olivia bit her lip. Acting on instinct and on the memory of their earlier encounter on the couch, she rocked her hips slowly back and forth, once and then again.

She thought Gareth gasped aloud. She couldn't be sure, because at the same time she heard fabric tear and the sound of buttons hitting the floor. Cloth slipped down her shoulders, and the air was cool against her skin, a pleasant relief in her current aroused state.

Somewhere along the line, Olivia had lost track of what she'd been doing. Gareth's tie hung open, and the first few of his shirt buttons were undone as well, but that was as far as she'd gotten. Now she moved to continue her work, but he stepped back, making a low sound in his throat that both gratified and further aroused Olivia.

So did his gaze, dark and hungry as it swept from her flushed face and disarranged hair, down to where her blouse fell open and her breasts rose out of her corset. Then he reached for her again, unfastening the little metal hooks of the corset with fingers that fumbled only a little. Medical training, Olivia decided, was certainly worth something.

Distracting Gareth would have been relatively easy just then. Olivia could tell as much from his rapid breathing, from the way his pulse beat in his neck, from the rigid control he focused on the metal hooks and eyes. He was trying very hard to keep his attention on the task at hand, and if he had to try, she could have sabotaged the attempt easily. The only problem was…she didn't want to.

Tactically, Olivia reasoned, it would do her good to let Gareth undress her. It would put her on higher ground if he acted as a servant now. Besides, the layers of cloth and metal, which she barely noticed most days, were now unbearably confining. So she stood and watched and held mostly still until Gareth unfastened the last hook and shoved both corset and blouse off her body. She didn't notice when they hit the floor.

Gareth didn't look either. His gaze lingered for a moment on her breasts, the dark pink nipples already hard and straining. Then, with a sigh of mixed relief and torment, he pulled Olivia back toward him, sliding his hands around her waist and then upward, caressing the skin he'd just exposed. His mouth met hers again just as his hands cupped her breasts, hot and slow and intent.

Biting her lip wouldn't work that time. Olivia cried out, unable to help it. She felt Gareth's satisfied chuckle even as he muffled the sound with his mouth, and she blushed, but she couldn't make herself care very much. Especially not once he started playing with her nipples, brushing them lightly and then rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Now she was moving her hips with no conscious thought of seduction, with very little conscious thought at all, in fact, simply seeking pressure and heat and sensation.

It did help that Gareth thrust back against her and moaned. It helped that his grip was harder now and his body rigid beneath her hands. The small section of Olivia's brain that still thought about games and scores found his reactions immensely satisfying. The rest of her just burned.

When Gareth drew her down into a chair, she had no idea of resisting. She knew only that straddling him let her rub herself against his male organ all the more effectively. Her legs wouldn't support standing up much longer, anyhow, and their new position brought her nipples much closer to his mouth.

Then he took one into his mouth, and Olivia arched helplessly forward against him, lost in desire. She vaguely noticed Gareth was holding himself very still. More importantly, one of his hands was on her leg, pushing her skirt and petticoats aside and sliding upward.

She let out a rush of breath when his fingers brushed against her sex. Somehow she didn't scream. Gareth's touch was light at first, teasing. His hand circled away, down her thighs, and then came back to cup her more solidly. One finger slid inside, then another, exploring, preparing.

Then guiding.

At some point he'd gotten his trousers undone. The head of his erection pressed against Olivia's opening, hot and hard, and, from her limited experience, rather on the large side. She caught her breath and shifted her weight, taking him just a little bit inside.

“
God
,” said Gareth.

His voice came from deep in his throat, and his free hand tightened on Olivia's hip, but he made no particular move to rush things. Olivia was mostly glad of that. Ready as she was, it had been a very long time. But, she thought vaguely with what small part of her was still capable of thought, it would be nice to provoke him entirely out of his self-control sometime.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, and near the end the slowness was a challenge to her willpower as well as his. The feeling of fullness inside of her, of heat and pressure, was incredible, and the guttural sounds Gareth was making only aroused her more.

When they were fully joined, Olivia held still for a second. Some sensations took time to fully appreciate. Gareth's head was back against the chair now, his face tense, and he'd closed his eyes, which was both a relief and a disappointment. Olivia could still read controlled desperation as well in the rest of his expression. Looking down at him, she began to move, one very gradual circle of her hips.