He didn't move during the entire act as his lips spoke delicately into her ear translating each movement, each song, as if it was his second nature. When she gasped and began laughing, he laughed with her, his body steel behind her.
The curtains closed for intermission, leaving them once again in utter darkness.
"We should return," Katherine whispered. "Surely, they will start to worry about us being alone for so long."
"Do you truly think it could get any worse?" he joked.
Katherine stifled a laugh. "Well, considering most of the ton saw my skirts up past my knees…"
"Glorious looking knees, by the way. I would love to see them again," he interrupted.
"I thought you were unconscious."
"Perhaps I stole a peek."
"Rogue."
"Always."
Katherine shivered as his body left hers. She rubbed her arms at the sudden chill. What in the world was wrong with her?
The white of Benedict's gloves was visible in the darkened box. His hand slowly moved in front of him and then reached for the back of her head.
All was lost.
For she went willingly and quite wantonly into his arms. Not at all sure if it was he who had made the first move or she, and not caring even if she was the guilty party.
His lips parted, a hungry moan escaped them as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. A yearning shot through her at his erotic kiss, causing her hands to clench and tug at his hair. His mouth was hot and sweet, demanding in its pursuit.
Logic had nothing to do with the way she arched her back into his embrace, allowing easier access, and then when his hands began purposefully caressing down her chest, she was again lost. Sensations she never knew possible caused her knees to weaken.
Benedict nipped at her neck, and then cursed. "I cannot ruin you at an opera…"
She kissed him hard across the mouth.
"Devil take me… I so desperately want to try," he mumbled as he nibbled on her lower lip. "I doubt you would thank me come tomorrow morning, nor would you be ecstatic to face your parents once they see you completely disgraced."
She stiffened and retreated.
"Good choice," he uttered, mumbling another oath before taking an unsteady breath. "Hell, what the devil is wrong with me?"
Was he speaking rhetorically?
He cursed again, this time kicking something. "I cannot be walking around like some besotted fool, my aunt will have me by my b—" He coughed. "My neck, she'll have me by the neck, and I'll never hear the end of it."
"Your grace," Katherine spoke up.
But he was truly having a one-sided conversation, so he continued in justifying his actions. "It's your fault! If you were not a woman…"
Katherine snorted. "Would you rather I be a man?"
"No!" he sputtered. "No, no, no, no. Heavens, no."
"I believe you." She covered her laugh.
Was he pacing? She could see movement but wasn't sure if he was pacing or merely throwing his fist in the air repeatedly.
"I know!"
She had an idea this was not going to end up being an intelligent end to their conversation.
"Hit me."
"Pardon?" she choked.
"Hit me, or trip me, anything really. I need to be reminded how utterly wrong you are for me, so that when I have moments of weakness — and don't deny it, I've had quite a few as of late — I remember that we will not suit, we cannot suit."
"So your answer is violence?" she asked.
"Precisely. After all, you've threatened my life four times before, why not add a fifth"
"Why not?" Katherine felt anger rise in her chest. The absolute cad! He would rather she strike him down than admit any sort of attraction?
Fine. He would get exactly what he asked for.
"It will be an honor, your grace." With that, she brought her fist back and landed a blow across his eye that would have done her father quite proud.
CHAPTER TEN
If Only Women were Allowed at Gentleman Jackson's…
To his utter shame and complete humiliation, Benedict took at least five minutes to regain consciousness. At least he suspected as much based on the expectant hush that had fallen over the theatre whil waiting for the second act. He refused to entertain the thought that it could have been longer. Being a man, it just wouldn't be kind.
The throbbing on his cheek and around the tender flesh of his eye screamed in protest as he gently touched the area where Katherine had hit him.
Clearly, she didn't need to be told twice to inflict pain. Though, to be fair, he had expected she would merely give him a light pat across the shoulder or mayhap even kick him in the shin.
Not, to his great humiliation, give such a remarkable punch that he was rendered senseless for longer than he'd care to admit. Were they allowing women at Jackson's these days? He needed to stop underestimating the chit, his nemesis, his future wife. Bitter pill to swallow, that.