me with all your squirming and sighing.”
“Well, how much longer is it going to be?” Victoria snipped back at her.
“As long as it takes. Now go away and stop bugging me. You’re ruining my concentration.”
“What? The concentration it takes to look at a blank screen?
Why can’t we have some more music? It breaks the monotony.”
“No, you’ll only sing along again. Go make some coffee.”
❖
The coffee failed to keep Victoria awake. Eventually, the sheer dullness of Mickey’s enterprise had her drifting off to sleep in an overstuffed armchair. What seemed like seconds later, a warm hand was gently shaking her shoulder.
“Victoria, Victoria. C’mon, time to wake up.” She snorted herself awake, then paused as she realized she was still free. The tables had not been turned, and she was not attached to some immovable object by cuffs on her wrists. It seemed Mickey and she were indeed in partnership, sharing a new level of trust and understanding.
“Did you know you snore…just a little?”
“I do not.” Groggily, she tried to sit upright. “Is it finished? Let me see.” She looked up to find her face inches from a bent over Mickey’s. Their gazes locked.
“It’s cold in here,” she murmured, shivering slightly, but not just from the chill.
Mickey swallowed hard but didn’t move away. “The other room’s warmer.” She offered a hand. “Come on.” Heat raced through Victoria’s body as their hands touched.
No matter the low temperature of the room, it suddenly seemed irrelevant to her body’s internal thermometer. Mickey’s throat and cheeks turned rose with that flush Victoria knew meant she was responding to her physically. She gave silent thanks to any god listening that she was not cursed with such a telltale sign.
She stood at Mickey’s insistence. But Mickey did not step back; instead they stood inches apart. Victoria looked questioningly into Mickey’s eyes, and the iris changed from sky to midnight in a blink. Leaning in until their lips barely touched, she closed her eyes and melted into Mickey like heated honey.
Shyly teasing and caressing Victoria gently kissed the coveted lower lip, drawing it into her mouth. With gentle tugs she nuzzled and sucked the sensitive inner silk.
Mickey moaned, her tongue darting out to graze Victoria’s top lip, tracing along the bowed curve, exploring form and texture.
Bolder, she became more insistent, demanding entry. With one last tender tug to the swollen lower lip, Victoria surrendered and opened to Mickey’s questing tongue. It poured into her mouth like caramel, rolling luxuriously over and around her own, numbing her mind to everything except its sweetness.
Victoria was totally lost. She could kiss Mickey like this for hours…for years. If she only knew one thing in this life, it was this kiss. She had always been destined to experience this kiss.
Suddenly, Mickey drew back. “I can’t do this, Victoria. Not if tomorrow you’re going to say I forced you. I just—” Her voice was broken. “I…I can’t. This time you have to want me, too.” Victoria was not bemused and befuddled. She was sure and clear. Her needs stood out starkly before her. All in focus, crisply contoured, sharp-edged black and white, and etched across the open, freckled face looking anxiously down at her.
Victoria had fallen in love, pure and simple. She had lost more than her freedom, more than her money. She had lost her heart to this muddled, deluded, but absolutely maddening woman. I’m the four hundred and ninety-seventh richest woman in America, and I’ve fallen for a thieving farm girl in just a few days. This wasn’t part of her strategic planning. It certainly wasn’t in her personal mission statement for a rich and ruthlessly successful life.
“Mickey, do as I say,” she whispered.
Mickey blinked at her stupidly. Uncertainty clouded her face. “I don’t know what you mean. What you want—”
“Mickey, kiss me. It’s