Gift of Gold (Gift #1)

"I take it you're referring to marriage?"

"Uh-huh. Marriage doesn't have a whole lot to offer a woman now, but back then it offered even less. Just the chance to die in childbirth and the opportunity to be some man's personal, unpaid slave." Verity paused thoughtfully. "I think, on the whole, I would have chosen the career of courtesan. Sounds like more fun than running a convent. I think I might have enjoyed presiding over glitzy soirees full of intelligent, refined men and women. They used to sit around in gorgeous clothes and discuss politics and philosophy and poetry, didn't they?"

"Among other things. The definition of social refinement was a little different back in those days. It was considered the height of sophisticated elegance if a man remembered not to scratch his crotch in public.

Besides philosophy and poetry, the salon groups spent a lot of time talking about how to conduct love affairs. They thrived on romantic intrigue. The Renaissance was big on intrigue, remember. Any kind of intrigue. Political, social, or sexual."

Verity sighed blissfully as the images danced through her mind. "Sounds fascinating. I'll assume the courtiers in my salons were sophisticated enough to remember not to scratch their privates in public.

I can just see me now wearing a satin gown with huge, slashed sleeves. I would have worn a ring that had a secret chamber for poison, of course, just like Lucrezia Borgia."

Jonas groaned. "Figures. I've got news for you: Lucrezia wasn't the witch that legend labeled her, just a lady who had a lot of bad luck when it came to marriage. And Renaissance poisons weren't nearly as reliable or as deadly as history implies, either. People worked hard on creating and testing them, but they lacked our twentieth-century knowledge of chemistry. Poisoning was a chancy business. When it came to killing, serious men usually opted for a dagger or a rapier."

"Ah hah. I can see it now," Verity said with relish. "Duels in the street over a woman's honor. Men fighting to the death to defend their lady's good name." Jonas's hand stilled on her foot. Verity lifted her lashes halfway and found him studying her with an expression that was far too intent. His amusement had faded. In its place was something far more dangerous.

"Would you enjoy seeing two men draw blood over the issue of which one got to take you to bed?"

Jonas asked in an unreadable voice.

Verity was horrified. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just joking. I'm not likely to have to worry about that sort of thing in this day and age. And I probably wouldn't have had to worry about it back then, either. I'm not the type men duel over. It's fun to think about being a glamorous courtesan, but the truth is, I'd probably have wound up in a convent. The women who ran the convents were good businesswomen, weren't they?"

Jonas nodded absently. "Sure. Running a convent was like running any large business. There was a lot of financial and accounting work. Rents had to be collected from the convent properties. Staffs had to be appointed and supervised. The nuns usually helped support themselves with some form of manual labor such as making silk thread. That required supervision and financial contracts with the outside world. And then there were the jobs of educating the young novices and cooking and cleaning. On top of everything else, the convent had a definite social and political role in the community and whoever ran the convent had to be good at public relations."

Verity wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like my kind of work.

So much for the fast-lane lifestyle of the professional courtesan. I would have been stuck in a veil."

The gold in Jonas's eyes seemed very dark and burnished with mystery. His hand slid up her calf to her thigh. He hadn't appeared to move, but Verity realized he was a lot closer than he had been a few minutes ago, and the touch of his hand had somehow become intimate rather than soothing. He shifted position beneath the bubbling water, removing his leg from her lap. She went still, uncertain about what was going to happen next and even more uncertain about how to handle it when it did.

She should definitely not allow him to kiss her, Verity told herself. Bad policy between employer and employee. Very bad.

"Don't be so quick to decide what kind of woman you would have been if you'd lived during the Renaissance. And don't be so certain you know what kind of woman you are today," Jonas muttered as he looked down into her upturned face.

"I think I know myself very well," she said bravely.

"Do you? I think you've got secrets even you don't know about, little tyrant. What do you say we explore them together?"

She parted her lips to tell him she thought that was a very bad idea but the words never formed. Jonas's mouth was somehow in the way, cutting off the protest before it had even begun.

His lips came down on hers with a captivating insistence. Lulled by the warm water, the sensual massage, and the beer, Verity decided it wasn't worth making a fuss over one kiss.

Too late she realized that this was exactly the sort of kiss a smart woman should have refused. There was something different about this kiss, she reflected as Jonas's lips moved druggingly on hers. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew that this was special, much too special. The taste and touch of him was unique, intoxicating, something for which she had been waiting for a long, long time.

Until this moment, Verity realized, she hadn't even known she had been waiting.

Without conscious thought Verity's right arm moved to encircle Jonas's neck. She felt the hard outline of the muscle of his shoulder beneath her fingers and she kneaded his bronzed skin the way a cat kneads a silk pillow. Jonas responded with a deep groan of desire.

He urged her mouth open and when she slowly parted her lips for him he muttered something thick and sensual. Hot gold poured through her in a dizzying wave. Then he was tasting her with the tip of his tongue, inviting her to join him in a small, astonishingly sexy duel. His hand moved farther up her thigh to the edge of her bathing suit.

For a timeless moment Verity hovered at the edge of never-never land, delightfully suspended at the gate of sensual exploration and discovery. She was aware of Jonas's fingertips as they slowly eased beneath the elastic leg of her swimsuit but she didn't worry about it. Time enough to stop him later.

Right now she had to sample a bit more. She was enthralled.

The hot water frothed and foamed around her as Jonas changed position again without breaking the intimate kiss. He settled back against the white tiled pool wall and lifted Verity across his thighs. He kept one hand on her hip, his fingers just barely inside the barrier of the elastic. His arm was behind her back, his palm on her side, not quite touching her breast.