Upon A Midnight Dream (London Fairy Tales #1)(22)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

"Shall I bribe you with sweets, my lady?" His hand was still frozen on her person; it would take a lot more than a pensive look from the lady to get him to remove any part of his body from hers, regardless of propriety.

Rosalind licked her lips, still not meeting his gaze. "Resorting to bribery? Interesting. It must be so terribly uncomfortable for you to sit in silence, Your Grace."

"The silence, it seems, is not one of my current grievances," he glanced down at his hand and then dipped his gaze to her parted lips.

"Sweets, you say?" She pushed his hand away and straightened her skirts.

"Ah, it seems I need to resort to many things in order to gain your approval and the pleasure of your conversation. Yes, fairy cakes to be exact. It is, after all your birthday."

Rosalind didn’t respond. Sighing, he rummaged through the picnic basket and withdrew two wrapped fairy cakes. Slowly, he unfolded one cake and held out his hand.

She looked doubtful and mistrusting as her hand reached across the small carriage and quickly swiped the fairy cake away from his clutches. Wise decision on her part, considering he used the opportunity to grab her other wrist and pull her into his lap. Rosalind wasn’t quick enough for his advance; nay his attack, and he relished the feeling of her bottom moving against him while at the same time hating himself for enjoying her torture. Well it wasn’t as if he was getting any release from her anytime soon, so truthfully they were torturing each other.

Fighting him, she finally relented fairy cake in hand, but now his prisoner. He smiled at his fortune and brilliance as her chest heaved up and down in frustration. Caught like a rat with its cheese.

"That was not fair."

Stefan continued grinning. "Didn’t you know Rosalind? Men, rarely play fair, or was it women? I get confused, but I do recall you repeating something similar to your good friend, Lord Rawlings."

Her eyes narrowed.

"It seems, your desire for a fairy cake trumped your logic and good thinking, for it was the bait in which I used to secure you, therefore making it possible to woo you the rest of the way to London." Which meant he had still but six hours to convince her to be his.

"Your Grace, if trapping a woman through sweets is another one of your ways of seduction, you are without a doubt the worst seducer to grace the country."

"Says the trapped little bird."

She squirmed under his brace, her bottom moving to and fro. His smile grew larger as blood roared through his veins. "My, my, how you play so deliciously into my hand."

"What do you want?" She relented her squirming and looked sadly down at the fairy cake.

"I want to feed you your birthday cake." He shrugged simply as if it was the most natural thing to do with a woman in a carriage.

"And if I allow it?"

"Then my wooing for the day is finished. I only ask that you endure as best you can."

"Endure…" She looked down at the fairy cake in hand. "And you promise to stop trying to seduce and woo me. And no more lessons?"

"For the remainder of the day, yes."

"I agree."

"I’m sorry it appears with age my hearing as declined. What did you say, my dear?"

A muscle twitched in her cheek as she answered through clenched teeth, "Do not push it, Your Grace. I said I agree and I mean it."

"Wonderful," he released her arms and very carefully lifted her from his lap to the seat next to him. "Now, let’s have the fairy cake, and I’ll show you the proper way to eat such a delicacy in celebration of one’s birthday."

Her shoulders slumped as she guilty handed over the fairy cake.

"Now," he grinned and unfolded the napkin holding the cake on his lap. "The best way to enjoy cake on ones birthday is blindfolded." Her indignant huff nearly did him in as he reached into the basket and pulled out a small napkin and motioned for her to turn so he could fasten it around her head. "Can you see anything?"

"No, but I gather that’s the idea." She turned to face him and he found the idea that she couldn’t see him sinfully erotic as his eyes boldly took in her plump bottom lip. Perhaps just a nibble…

"Perfect." He cleared his throat. "Now, open your mouth."

First, she nibbled her lips then apparently the idea of having a fairy cake won out, like a little bird ready to be fed, she opened her bow lips. He found he couldn’t merely hand over the food and be done with this little experiment to get her to trust him. So, instead he dipped his finger in frosting and swiped it across her bottom lip.

Her pink tongue emerged and licked her bottom lip and he found himself once again entranced by her motions. Rosalind relaxed, just slightly, and Stefan found himself needing to see her eyes as she enjoyed the fairy cake. He pulled off the blindfold and stared in awe as her eyelashes blinked slowly at him then closed in ecstasy, giving Stefan the jealous feeling that he was missing out on the exchange between the participant and the object — frosting.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt. Stefan bellowed a curse as the door swung open. "I just cannot take the cold any longer, Your Grace. To think that you allowed me to even step outside the carriage is quite beyond me. Really you should have more manners. Oh, fairy cakes! Don’t mind if I do!" Mary swiped the cake out of his grasp and comfortably positioned herself on the other side of the carriage.

Dumbstruck, Stefan didn’t know if it was at all proper to say out loud the obscenities he was thinking in his head considering there was a lady present. Mary didn’t count.

Rosalind smirked at him and he found himself helpless as to how to continue on without, one getting caned, and two aroused quite awkwardly as the godmother held a blunt object within her grasp.

The footman was still standing outside the door, mouth ajar, the poor bloke was probably already thinking of where to seek other employment after allowing a passenger in the duke’s carriage to put a stop to their journey.

Stefan nodded his head towards the pale man and told him to get on with it. The man scrambled to shut the door and soon they were off.

"I gather you’re over your aversion to our picnic?" Stefan dusted his hands of the stolen fairy cake.

"Well, if you wouldn’t have been so belligerent with your waving of that horrid-looking meat, I wouldn’t have had to step outside of the carriage, Your Grace."

"Are you scolding me?" He felt his chest rise as his fingers clenched into the seat.

"Nonsense," Rosalind piped up, gently touching the top of his clenched hand. "Mary was merely pointing out that we were insensitive to her…"