Page 19 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Her tongue passed over her lower lip, wetting it. ‘We shouldn’t. Haven’t we kissed too many times already?’

He looked into her eyes and saw a curious need. His own need was not out of curiosity, but out of desire to kiss her again. ‘We are betrothed. I don’t believe there is a count.’

Her eyes lowered to his mouth. ‘I haven’t heard of a count either.’

‘And there is no one here,’ he pointed out.

She leaned towards him, pressed a hand on his chest. ‘I suppose you’re right. There is no one here, my lord.’

His breath stalled in his lungs as she pressed her lips to his. He met her kiss and took what he wanted from the first moment he’d spotted her wading in the surf. She tasted like summer sunshine and burgeoning passion. It was a sweet kiss, a searing one which too easily set his blood on fire. And when her tongue tentatively brushed against his, it took all his control not to pull her to him and ravage her mouth. She wasn’t wearing stockings, and his fingers itched to lift the edge of her skirts to touch her naked skin.

Madness.

It took all his self-control to break the kiss. ‘I suppose we should return before we are missed.’ He looked deep into her eyes and felt his resistance begin to crumble. What was it about her? She made him as randy as a youthful boy.

She let out a little sigh. ‘You’re right. My mother will be looking for me.’

They stood and, after she’d packed her basket, he shook the blanket away from the wind so the sand would not spray them. He took the moment to collect himself before turning back to her. She picked up her basket, shoved her stockings inside, then slipped into her shoes.

He halted. ‘Aren’t you going to dress?’

She gave him a curious look. ‘Why? No one will know I’m not wearing stockings.’

Good God. He would know. He was right. If he allowed it, she would unravel his orderly world. Once they were married, he did not intend to change his habits or his work ethic. Just as he did not expect her to change her daily routine, whatever that was. He had work to do, political allies to meet, all in preparation of the first reading of his bill. He couldn’t allow her to alter this course no matter how easily she seemed to muddle his brain.

As if oblivious to his thoughts, she tugged on his hand. ‘Let us hurry, my lord, before tongues wag even more than they have.’

‘Ralston! Join us for billiards.’ Adler had spotted Ralston on his return from the beach and called out to him. Nora had already dashed off to find her mother.

‘Perhaps another time,’ Ralston said. After being at the beach with Nora, he sought to change in his room and have time to himself. But his friend had other ideas.

Adler halted before him. ‘You cannot abandon your friend. The men are in the billiards room and I don’t want to get stuck with Brooks as a partner.’

Ralston gave him a cynical look. ‘And you think I’ll be any better?’

‘I know you will.’

His friend was persuasive and by the time they arrived in the billiard room, all the men had gathered. The Duke handed him a cue stick. ‘Ralston, I never had a chance to congratulate you on your engagement.’

‘Thank you, Your Grace. It was long in coming.’ A lie. It was unexpected. He’d been taken by surprise by an auburn-haired vixen.

A scientist.

He still had trouble reconciling the two. An image of Nora with her skirts tucked into her waistband, her glorious legs glistening from ocean spray was an image he’d be hard-pressed to forget. Then she’d sat next to him, opened her notebook, and her enthusiasm as she’d pointed to her sketches of shells and the slimy mollusks that inhabited them was even more vivid in his mind. He’d underestimated her, and her beauty and intelligence were a heady combination.

Many men would not find a woman with brains desirable as a wife. Title, dowry, family influence and attractiveness were sought after. Even submissiveness.

He was not one of them. He could never stand an empty-headed woman, no matter how beautiful. Their nonsensical chatter, their giggling at any mundane joke, made him uncomfortable.

As for the last trait of submissiveness? He almost laughed out loud when he thought of Nora. She was too independent, too stubborn to exhibit that trait.

Their shared kiss by the ocean sprang to mind. It had been unexpected and even more passionate than the others. The more he learned about her, the more he found attractive. Yet he must remind himself to keep an emotional distance. A betrayal like the one he’d lived through was hard to forget or forgive and he had no desire to go through that ever again. No, it was best if he kept a businesslike relationship at all times.

The crack of the billiards balls drew his attention back to the game.

‘I say all the gentlemen should get together when we return to Town to celebrate Ralston’s good fortune,’ Sir Simon said.

Ralston’s fingers tightened on his cue stick. He’d dismissed the rake soon after arriving at the house party as a coxcomb. He’d had little in common with the man. After learning Nora had intended to slip into the rake’s bedchamber rather than his own, his dislike for the for Sir Simon had tripled. The idea that he would want to get together to celebrate his engagement with the man made Ralston want to jab him in the gut with his pool stick.