Free Touch Me by Jacquie D'Alessandro

Beautiful women have been overpowering strong men for centuries with nothing more than a single touch.”
    Genevieve’s fingers curled inside her gloves and she winced at the aching soreness in her joints. A single touch …Yes, at one time she’d been capable of overpowering, seducing a man with her touch. Before the arthritis had stricken her hands—slowly at first, just a few twinges, that had increased in frequency, intensity and duration. The combination of the hot springs and hercream had offered relief and had enabled her to hide her growing discomfort from Richard for months. But when the swelling had begun, she couldn’t hide any longer.
    She missed the woman she used be. Yet, since there was no point in dwelling on the past or on things she couldn’t change, she opened her mouth to steer the subject into safer waters. Before she could, however, he added softly, “Of course, if a touch doesn’t quite do the trick, there are other ways.”
    “Indeed? And what are those?”
    “I’m surprised that a woman familiar with Brightmore’s Ladies’ Guide needs to ask.”
    At his mention of the Guide , her breath caught. She knew, of course, what he referred to. “Unlike you, I read it months ago. I fear my memory isn’t as fresh as yours.”
    “Ah. Then allow me to remind you. According to Brightmore, Today’s Modern Woman should not hesitate to insist upon getting what she wants, be it in the drawing room or in the bedchamber—even if she has to tie up her man to get it.”
    Genevieve’s heart began to beat in slow, hard thuds. She’d written those words—or rather, dictated them to Catherine because Genevieve’s hands had rendered writing so uncomfortable—never dreaming she’d hear a man recite them back to her. And so exactly. Clearly that passage had left an impression. “So you believe that a woman can overpower a man with ropes?”
    “Not unless he’s willing. As for ropes…” He shook his head. “Something softer, such as a satin ribbon, would be much more…pleasurable.”
    His quiet, husky tone dared her to contradict him. Which she needed to, of course. They were in a public place. Anyone might overhear them. Certainly anyoneobserving them would see the way he was looking at her. As if he wanted to devour her. And this conversation…it was completely improper. Beyond the pale. She needed to end this. Now.
    Yet when she parted her lips, no words came forth. Nor could she pull her gaze away from his.
    “Of course, if the lady wasn’t quick to do the overpowering, she might find herself overpowered instead,” he murmured.
    An image of herself sprawled in her bed, her wrists bound with satin ribbons and him looming over her flashed through her mind.
    Desire gushed through her, hardening her nipples, swelling the aching folds between her thighs, dampening her drawers. She felt flushed and out of breath and, damnation, she needed to sit down before her shaky knees gave away the fact that she felt less than steady.
    As if he read her mind, he pointed to a copse of trees ahead, on the fringe of the festivities. “There’s a bench over there. Would you like to sit down?”
    Not trusting her voice, she nodded and quickened her pace, resolved that she’d sit only as long as she needed to to regain her composure, then she’d plead a headache and beg off from his company. Clearly, her instincts that had warned her there was more to his trip to Little Longstone than he’d told her had been wrong. She now felt fairly confident his reasons for being here had nothing to do with Charles Brightmore. Which meant they had nothing to do with her. Which meant there was no reason to prolong their outing or to see him again. She would return to her cottage, resume her routine of visiting the springs to ease the pain in her hands, and forget all about Simon Cooper.
    Unfortunately, a little voice inside her whispered that forgetting about this man who had reawakened wants and needs she’d thought long