She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“That’s something we’ll have to remedy.”
His voice was barely a whisper, a thread of sound emanating from the shadows. Disembodied, it might have belonged to a ghost, but there was nothing imaginary about the breath that stirred the tendrils of hair by her ear as he stepped up close behind her.
She shivered in anticipation.
He leaned forward and the warmth of his body pressed down the full length of her back. His legs brushed her skirts, his hips molded to her bottom, his chest touched her shoulder blades.
“For the record, there isn’t just one type of kiss,” he murmured.
His breath tickled the sensitive shell of her ear and she stood still, utterly mesmerized.
“A kiss can be tender and sweet, the lightest brush of lips.”
His chin brushed her shoulder as he reached around her and unfastened the button that secured her cape at her throat. It slipped from her shoulders with the faintest rustle of fabric, and Kitty shivered as the cool air teased her bare arms and throat, exposed by her dress.
“It can be an apology,” he continued. “A promise. An invitation.” His words seemed to swirl around her like sorcery. “You can kiss in anger, for consolation, for joy.”
His lips brushed the hair at her temple, and she heard him inhale softly, as if he were drawing her scent, her essence, into his lungs.
Her knees went weak.
“A kiss can last the briefest of heartbeats or linger like the most luxurious of warm baths.”
She managed to find her voice. “A kiss can do all that?” She sounded breathless, skeptical. Hopeful.
“And more.”
“Which type are you going to show me?”
“All of them, in time. If you’ll let me.”
Her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded.
“Why?”
“Because when you can’t see anything, all your other sensations become heightened. Scent, touch, taste.”
“It’s already dark.”
She felt the slight huff of his amused exhale against her nape; he’d always loved her arguing with him. “Indulge me.”
Kitty could barely draw in a breath. No doubt about it, she was being seduced by a master, and while she hated how he must have gained such experience, she was certainly appreciative of his skills. She closed her eyes, even though it made little difference, and became aware of the delicious masculine smell of him; musky woods and clean sheets.
He smelled nothing like Charles.
He moved around in front of her, and she gave a little start as the pad of his thumb brushed across her lips. His long fingers slid up her cheek to cup her jaw, and her whole body tingled in excitement.
“The first kiss is a welcome. Just to say hello.”
She hardly dared to breathe as his lips grazed hers. Petal-soft. Tender. Every part of her surged to that point of contact; she was fizzingly aware of the place where they touched.
She’d dreamed of this.
When he pulled back, she made an inarticulate sound of protest, but then his thumb brushed her chin and he turned her jaw, tilting her head to a slightly different angle.
