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She forced herself not to pull away. He'd been so blunt, so bare with his need—it almost frightened her. “That's the whiskey talking,” she said hastily.
“Do you think so? You know very little about men, my sweet.”
“I know about you.”
He laughed. “Not half as much as I know about you, my dear Miss Trent.”
“Don't mock me,” she whispered.
“Ah, but I've been watching you. Shall I prove it? All the things I know, all the little things I've noticed. I could fill one of those books you're so fond of.”
“Blake, I think you should—”
But he cut her off with a finger to her lips. “I'll start here,” he whispered, “with your mouth.”
“My m—”
“Shhh. It's my turn.” His finger traced the delicate arch of her upper lip. “So full. So pink. You've never painted them, have you?”
She shook her head, but the motion brought on the sensual torture of his finger rubbing along her skin.
“No,” he murmured, “you wouldn't have to. I've never seen lips like yours before. Did I ever mention that they were the first thing I noticed about you?”
She sat utterly still, too nervous to shake her head again.
“Your lower lip is lovely, but this one”—he traced her upper lip again—“is exquisite. It begs to be kissed. When I thought you were Carlotta…even then I wanted to cover your lips with mine. God, how I hated myself for that.”
“But I'm not Carlotta,” she whispered.
“I know. It's worse this way. Because now I can almost justify wanting you. I can—”
“Blake?” Her voice was soft, but it was urgent, and she thought she'd die if he didn't complete his thought.
But he just shook his head. “I digress.” He moved his fingers to her eyes, skimming the tips over her eyelids as she closed them. “Here is another thing I know about you.”
She felt her lips part, and her breathing grew ragged.
“Your eyes—such heavenly lashes. Just a touch darker than your hair.” He moved his fingers to her temples. “But I think I like them open better than closed.”
Her eyes flew open.
“Ah, that's better. The most exquisite color in the world. Have you ever been out to sea?”
“Not since I was a very little girl.”
“Here by the coast the water is gray and murky, but once you get away from the taint of the land, it is clear and pure. Do you know what I'm talking about?”
“I—I think so.”
He shrugged rather suddenly and dropped his hand. “It still doesn't hold a candle to your eyes. I've heard the water is even more breathtaking in the tropics. Your eyes must be the exact color of the ocean as it skims along the equator.”
She smiled hesitantly. “I should like to see the equator.”
“My dear girl, don't you think you should at least try to see London first?”
“Now you're being cruel, and you don't really mean it.”
“Don't I?”
