He kissed her again. More firmly this time, a pressure she couldn’t help but return. She swayed, leaning up into it, into him, delight and amazement singing in her blood.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips.
Oh!
“Open your mouth for me,” he breathed, and the rough gravel of his voice made her stomach somersault with a kind of excited terror. She parted her lips to ask him what he meant, but his mouth closed over hers again, and she gasped as his tongue slid inside to tangle with her own.
He groaned, deep in his chest; a thrilling, masculine sound of torment. The hand on her jaw tightened, then slid down her throat, over her collarbone to her shoulder.
“God, you taste so sweet. Like honey.”
Kitty’s heart was pounding. If she hadn’t already known it was James she was kissing, that comment would have given him away. She hadn’t understood the strange, hungry look he’d given her when she’d licked the honey from her fingers earlier. But had it been desire?
She slid her hands up his chest and fisted the front of his waistcoat. “More. Please.”
“God, yes.”
His hand slid to the back of her head. His mouth recaptured hers, and time lost all meaning. Their tongues dueled and slid as he initiated a leisurely exploration that built a warmth in her by slow degrees. She was aware of nothing but the delicious friction of his skin, the slight rasp of stubble on his jaw, the strength of his arms.
A groan, almost pained, rumbled from him as she abandoned herself to the kiss, returning what he gave, urging him on. It was glorious, decadent. Even better than she’d imagined. She wanted to do this forever.
Breathless minutes later, he pulled away. She opened her eyes but still couldn’t see him; it was too dark. But she could hear his ragged breathing, feel the thundering of his heart beneath the layers of waistcoat and shirt.
Her own lips were tingling, her cheeks flushed with heat. Her breasts were aching, and a strange swirling sensation gnawed in her belly. She knew what it was: lust. Desire. For James.
Only for James.
Damn him.
She sucked in an unsteady breath. “Now I see why people rate kissing so highly.”
There was only a tiny quaver in her voice.
It was as if her voice broke the spell. James stepped away abruptly, strode across the room, and cracked open the door. A sliver of light from the hall intruded, but he kept to the shadows behind the wood.
“You should leave, Miss Worth.”
Kitty frowned in confusion. Wasn’t he going to reveal himself? Why would he let her think she’d just been kissing Charles?
“But—” she stammered.
He opened the door a fraction more, in clear indication that she should precede him.
“Goodnight.”
There was no arguing with that tone. In a daze, Kitty retreated down the curving steps and started toward her room. As she passed the broom cupboard, she heard Charles’s muffled shouts from within. A few weak thumps echoed as he pounded on the inside of the door, followed by an outraged bellow.
Kitty bit her lip. She still had no key to let him out. And even if she did, she had no desire to face him now and make explanations. He’d just have to wait for one of the servants to discover him. Or for James to let him out.
She turned back to the tower staircase, determined to wait for James and confront him, but ten minutes passed with no sign of him.
Blast. There must be another way down from the tower. The whole castle was riddled with secret passages and hidden stairways; she and Gwyn had discovered several of them when they were younger.
With a sigh, she slipped back into her bedroom, more confused than she’d ever been in her life.
What had that been about? Had James been so distracted by passion that he’d forgotten to reveal himself? Had kissing her addled his brain as much as it had hers?
It seemed unlikely. Her inexperienced fumbling, however enthusiastic, scarcely had the power to send a man like him to his knees.
