Free Blood Fire by Sharon Page

night long. She would wake up so aroused and needy that she had to pleasure herself. So aroused that she only had to lightly stroke between her legs and she exploded in an orgasm.
    After her orgasms, she also felt stronger. But it was only a temporary effect and would ebb away.
    Did lovemaking have healing properties? She couldn’t ask Father, obviously, even though he was a great scholar of human nature and existence.
    So was Sutcliffe.
    Perhaps the Earl of Sutcliffe knew why pleasure—and thoughts of him—made her feel better. Perhaps he could explain it to her.
    If she knew the secret, then she wouldn’t need Sutcliffe.

    Octavia sat in the very back row of the lecture hall of the Royal Society, while Sutcliffe spoke in front of the packed room of ardent young scholars and middle-aged men.
    She had no idea exactly how to ask the questions she must ask of him.
    Can you actually make magic when you make love?
    I feel better after I have erotic dreams about you. Do you know why?
    She certainly couldn’t do it in front of a crowded room. She had to get him alone.
    From beneath the veil attached to her bonnet, Octavia watched Sutcliffe describe astonishing sights he had seen on his last voyage to Africa. His words painted pictures in her head. He really was . . . magnetic when he spoke.
    She was not the only woman in the hall—there were six, and all the rest looked very much like bluestockings. She was the only one wearing a thick lace veil to hide her face. She had wondered if Sutcliffe would notice her and stare at her. But he let his gaze flit over the crowd as he spoke of the remarkable species he had found in Africa, and how most of the creatures had developed methods to blend into their environment, thus helping with their survival.
    She didn’t blend in here. In her disguise, she stuck out. But he had not looked at her even once. He appeared to be carefully avoiding her. Whenever he faced her side of the room, he kept his gaze on the first rows. Then he would abruptly turn on his heel and pace the other way.
    Sutcliffe came to a stop behind his lectern, rested his hands on it, and gave the crowd a handsome smile. “Are there more questions?”
    Octavia’s heart pumped hard. He would be finished soon, and she intended to approach him. And . . . well, she also had to proposition him.
    She had to get better again. She had to see if sex with him could make her well again.
    But a dozen hands went up, and she almost wept. It would be a long time before he was finished and she could get him alone.
    Would he even acknowledge her if she did? He had apologized, which did not mean he wanted to see her again, but the lovely flowers were more of a gift than he had needed to send.
    Now he was ignoring her.
    There were hundreds of reasons. It was a public place. He was giving a lecture and certainly couldn’t suddenly jump over the chairs to reach her and sweep her into a kiss. Not without causing a scandal—
    In front of the crowd, he bowed. “I thank you all for coming today, and I hope you enjoyed my talk on ‘Survival of Certain Species of the African Plains and Jungles.’ ”
    All the young men stood and applauded.
    Octavia waited at the back of the crowd. People streamed past her, and when the last one had left, she looked toward the lecture area.
    It was empty.
    Sutcliffe had left through a different door. Avoiding her.
    “Miss, there’s not supposed to be anyone in here.”
    She turned to see a youthful footman in the doorway. “I wished to speak to Lord Sutcliffe,” she said, as imperiously as she could.
    The servant’s brows shot up. She was a woman alone, after all, and that usually meant scandalous and sordid things. In truth, she had to do shocking things with Sutcliffe. To see if they made her well.
    “You will have to leave now, miss.”
    “Of course. But where has Lord Sutcliffe gone?” She asked the question without a quiver, as though it was her right to know.
    “He left the building, miss.