Page 70 of How to Best a Marquess

The tip of her tongue met his finger, and his eyes widened in anticipation that surely matched the blood singing through her veins. His groan sent a tingling down her spine.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Ellie. Hard. If you don’t want it, then leave this room and my butler will summon my carriage to take you home.”

Oh God.Her limbs froze in anticipation.

Leave. Leave now and save yourself, your treacherous heart.

Her feet refused to move.

A second later, she was in his arms. His mouth swooped down to ravage hers. The kiss was hard, hungry, and devastating. He exuded a masculinity that jolted her senses, and each time his tongue stroked hers, she became more overwhelmed until she was panting, and her hands rose to dig into his hard biceps.

He moaned. Or was that herself? She didn’t care. She wanted him with an urgency that shocked her. His lips left hers to slide across her cheek and nuzzle her ear.

“Just tonight. Tomorrow we must act as if this never occurred,” she said.

He looked down at her. “Why?”

“Have you forgotten our competition over the Raven Club?”

“No. I haven’t forgotten,” he said.

“Then what happens between us tonight must not interfere with our efforts. It changes nothing.”

“Is that what you really want?” he asked.

“Yes.”

After a heart-stopping pause, he finally nodded in agreement.

She was an independent woman, free from a husband’s demands and capable of making her own decisions. She wanted him, could have this, one last time. And he’d agreed.

Then why did she feel an uncomfortable loss?