“Bears? Gentle?”
“Usually.”
She couldn’t imagine it. “Tell me more.”
His smile widened, and he began to touch her cheek. “There are such wonders in the world, I could not begin to describe them all.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Or the things I have yet to try.”
She knew he meant sexual things, and part of her tightened in curiosity. Perhaps even desire. So she did not stop him from caressing her jaw or brushing his thumb across her lower lip. His hands were different from Trevor’s. Larger, more calloused. She wasn’t sure she liked them.
Meanwhile, his greedy expression was back. He knew he had caught her. “It will cost you though,” he said softly. “But I think you shall enjoy paying.”
She nearly rolled her eyes. Men could be such single-minded creatures. “Sexuality is not so difficult a thing.”
He chuckled. “Then you have a great deal to learn, and I shall enjoy teaching you.”
She started to argue, but he pressed his thumb across her lips.
“I have a different payment in mind, Melinda.”
She shook her head. “But I have nothing else to offer.” Except her dowry, of course. But he had no need of money.
“You do. You have your cosmetic formula.”
She blinked, pulling back. She hadn’t thought about her clearing lotion in weeks, and wasn’t that a surprise? Before Trevor, it had been the single most important thing in her life. But now, it languished in her notes. A forgotten recipe for a cosmetic for women.
“But…why?” He had no blemishes that she could see. No dark spots to remove or lessen.
“Can’t you guess?” he challenged. “Give me the formula, Melinda. Let me sell it. You can even help, if you like. Advise me on the factories, tell me which shops would be best, which ladies would pay most for it.”
She thought about it. She had no doubt that he could make a fortune with her formula. He had the skill and the resources to produce it. Meanwhile, he stroked his fingers along her neck. He slipped beneath her hair, and she knew he angled for a kiss.
“It is part of my dowry,” she whispered, thinking aloud. “I should choose a husband who knows what to do with it.”
She saw his lips curve, but there was no humor in the expression. “I have no intention of marrying you, Melinda. Only a mistress will do the things I imagine.”
She jolted. “What?”
And now he did look amused, as one might at a very young child. “I have told you I am a man of greed. Why would I allow a woman—any woman—to load me with her debts? No, Melinda, what I offer you is the world.”
“In exchange for the formula.”
“And your body. Your luscious, innocent body to use for our pleasure.”
Now she understood. Now she knew what he offered, and she was shocked. She shouldn’t be, she supposed. What he said made sense. And damn it, she was considering it. After all, she hated this business of finding a husband. Why not throw it all to the wind and make a fortune besides? She could force him to share the profits with her. She could make a contract, couldn’t she?
There was a name for what he offered. She’d overheard it before but only now began to understand what it entailed.
“Is this…” She swallowed. “Are you offering me carte blanche?”
“Yes,” he said. “You strike me as a woman daring enough to make such a path enormously profitable. For us both.”
“Daring? Me?” She nearly laughed out loud at that. She’d been the opposite of daring. And the one time she’d truly embraced recklessness, she’d given her virginity to the absent Trevor.
“Yes, you,” he said, and there was a wealth of temptation in those two words.
She started to think about it. She tried to analyze her possibilities as she might a chemical formula. She tried to simply weigh options and costs, but despite all that intention, her thoughts were stuck on the night she’d shared with Trevor. And the horrifying idea of doing that with anyone else.
And while she stood there in awkward contemplation, a man appeared. A man who was so familiar to her heart and soul that her body was stepping toward him before her mind even registered his angry gaze and his raised fist.