you’ve saved me the trouble.”
He circled the bed and unwrapped her bindings, taking time with each arm to massage her wrists and circulate blood back into her fingers. His hands were large, with elegant tapered fingers. Those lovely digits had sent her to paradise this evening. She looked up into laughing eyes—as though he could read her mind. “You were about to tell me what a pleasurable experience you had under my tutelage . . .”
She turned her hand within his and pulled him near. He sat down beside her so she could trace the dark red scratch along his neck. “Rather vicious of me—or her—to lure you in so close.”
The ends of Exeter’s mouth twitched upward again. “And my reward for braving the black panther for a kiss?”
Her finger moved from his neck to his upper lip, to the cut she had made from her bite. Mia gently kissed his lower lip. “Pay us no mind next time.”
Exeter, in turn, passed his thumb over her swollen bottom lip—the one that displayed his mark. “You need a tincture for this scratch and some ice from the cold closet.” He reached for his medical bag.
Mia sprang out of bed and opened her wardrobe. “Since we both need tending—shall we visit the kitchen together? If there’s an ember left in the stove, I’d like to heat some milk—for hot chocolate.” She was not unaware of Exeter’s gaze as she pulled on her dressing gown with a chinois motif. “Come.” She tugged on his medical bag. “And you shall have a dash of crème de menthe in yours.”
In the kitchen, Exeter lifted her up by the waist and sat her down on top of the long kitchen worktable. He unwrapped a clean piece of gauze and dropped a number of ice chips into the cloth. “Place this on your lip—put a bit of pressure on it.”
Mia held the cold, soothing compress and watched Exeter pour milk into a saucepan and leave it to heat on the stove. “I think I have some iodine . . .” he mumbled, rummaging about in his kit. “Ah—here we are.” He dipped a stick with a cotton tuft on one end into the small, amber-colored bottle.
Mia lowered the compress. “Looks better already.” He swabbed her bottom lip. “Ahh!” She cried.
“Don’t lick your lips—let it dry.”
Mia nodded and took up the swab and bottle. Exeter leaned close to let her dab a bit of tincture on his mouth and along his jawline. “Are you in much pain?”
“Pain? Not really.” Exeter’s mouth twitched. “Frustration, yes—pain, no.”
Mia lowered the swab. “I’m well aware of the sorts of things you did in my room—those . . . pleasures are intended to be mutual.” She raised her gaze to meet his.
“My satisfaction, or lack thereof, is of little concern right now. What is of utmost importance is that you learn the basics as quickly as possible.”
Mia nodded. “Valentine’s notes were quite clear. The trick is to let go and at the same time remain in control.”
Exeter skirted the table and moved the pan to a warming plate. Mia joined him at the stove. “I’ll stir.” Exeter grated shaved chocolate into the steaming milk, turning the cream a rich shade of dark brown. Mia poured the hot chocolate in two cups. “I’ve seen Mr. Tandi do this hundreds of times—you receive half the sugar, and a jigger of Menthe-Pastille.” Mia stirred in the doctor’s mint-flavored liquor. “There, something sweet to distract us from the sting of the tincture.” She set both cups of hot chocolate on the worktable.
Mia quietly drank the warm, bittersweet confection, and contemplated the man sitting on the stool beside her. There were moments, like now, when she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Exeter sipped his chocolate and gazed at her over a tipped cup. His piercing green eyes were warmer than usual. “Did you know peppermint is sometimes regarded as the world’s oldest medicine?” When he looked at her as a woman, as he was doing now, something fluttered in her secret intimate place—the place they