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“Oh dear,” she said in a breathless gasp. Was he thinking of kissing her? Surely not! The uncomfortable sensation that he knew the errant path her thoughts had traversed assailed her.
Another gleam of humor appeared in his eyes. “Is that all you have to say?”
He held her hips and tugged her slowly to him, pressing her body against his. She should not let him hold her like this, yet unexpected anticipation sifted through her. She felt surrounded by a wall of muscles and warm skin. The thrill of something improper, unexpected, and wicked quivered through her. I’ve never been kissed, formed on her tongue, but what came out was, “I believe you are soon to announce an engagement with Miss Vinnette Brampton!”
Surprised flared in the gaze that stared down at her, then knowledge. “Ah, it was your footsteps I heard shuffling in the corridor last night.”
The rogue! “My sister’s,” she husked.
“Miss Vinnette and I are friends. After she cried on my shoulder, I escorted her to her rooms safe and untouched.”
Callie did not understand why she believed him or why such relief filled her veins with enough force to make her knees wobble. She did not even understand why she wasn’t running from this situation. It felt reckless…and while she had a wild heart, she had never had a man stand this close to her before. And might very well never have it happen again. Within her an awful emptiness took root. I am four and twenty, and I’ve never been kissed. And weren’t house parties the perfect occasions to be wicked and improper even if just only once?
He cupped her chin and lifted her face up to his regard. His gaze searched every nuance of her features as if he were trying to imprint something on his mind. “You are breathtakingly lovely,” he murmured. “I do believe I even like your waspish tongue.”
She gasped, torn between affront and amusement. “Why you—”
“It is my pleasure to divert your vexation,” he said with a smile, brushing his thumb across her lower lip.
Her stomach fluttered as if it entrapped birds which were desperate to escape. There was something sinful in the gaze that stared at her lips as if he imagined her doing something terribly improper with her mouth.
A sweet ache trembled low in her belly.
Oh…oh…oh!
Chapter 5
Graham dipped his head lower and claimed Callisto’s lips before he could tell himself to fight the temptation. Her gasp of alarm allowed him entry, and he swept his tongue inside her mouth. She stiffened against him, and he gentled his kiss to soft, soothing nips, mindful of her delicate sensibilities. He pressed a series of light, teasing brushes of his mouth against hers. She opened herself to his persuasion, and with a sigh, she responded; he felt the inexperience, and inexplicably, it made him want her more.
She wilted against him, and ran her hands over his shoulders in a caress that felt as gentle as the brush of a butterfly’s wing, to slip them around his neck. Then her response flamed with more hunger and the vivacity she had displayed earlier in their sparring.
Graham groaned and slanted her head, deepening an already far too intimate kiss. Her innocent yet greedy response coaxing him to want more.
“You taste like heaven,” he murmured.
She tipped on her toes and leaned into him even more. A soft moan echoed from her and vibrated through him. Desire erupted inside of him, and he wrapped her in an even closer embrace where the evidence of his desire would be unmissable.
She wrenched her lips from his, pressing trembling fingers to her mouth. “I did not expect that,” she breathed. “Good heavens!”
“Neither did I.”
She sent him a look of cool caution. “With a man of your varied experience, I doubt that mightily, my lord.”
“It is because of my experience I can affirm I have never been lightheaded from a kiss before.” Or so enthralled.
She gasped softly and her eyes widened.
How prettily she blushed. How furiously his heart pounded. From a mere kiss. He suspected it had everything to do with the lady before him. Her passionate defense of her mother and her unmistakable caring nature had filled him with surprised admiration.
Their gaze lowered to the mistletoe on the ground between them, before staring back at each other. A question lingered in her eyes, one that asked why he kissed her and what he meant by the intimate embrace. Graham could not answer, only knowing he wanted her in his arms again and her delightful mouth pressed against his. He reached for her and with another gasp she leaned back into the fountain.
Bloody hell. He was letting desire cloud his good judgement.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you. It will not happen again.”
She dipped into a quick and graceless curtsy and then hurried away before he could gather his wits. He watched her retreating figure, wondering what the hell had just happened. While he’d had a few lovers over the years, he had never taken an innocent to his bed. He wasn’t a rake or a man without honor or conscience. Lately, he had been thinking of setting himself up with a mistress, thinking it would be more convenient to have a woman ready whenever the urge rose to have some fun between the sheets. Graham had been moving slowly in procuring a chère amie because the idea of such an arrangement dissatisfied him.
There were days he hungered for someone to sit and talk with, for hours, perhaps about the work he was doing with his father or even find out about a woman’s days and what her interests were. Then he imagined he could take that elusive someone to balls and carriage rides. In all honesty he had not thought a mistress would fill that role. And staring through the glass of the conservatory at Miss Middleton as she ran along the lantern-lit path to the main house, the awareness that the someone he’d been imagining felt remarkably similar to the lively and charming young woman who had just left his arms.
