Page 70 of How to Start a Scandal

Of course, she could wait. Until he proposed. If he proposed. Why subject herself to the humiliation now if it was all for naught?

In an instant, without any additional time spent dwelling on the thought, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘I’m the author of the Lady Observer.’

He blinked once and his smile dimmed slightly. ‘Are you serious?’

She nodded and tensed for his reaction. This was not the secret she had tried to prepare herself to tell. But now it was out and she couldn’t draw it back in.

‘I was going to do an exposé on Lottie,’ she admitted. ‘It’s the true reason I went to see her.’

Shame burned her face.

Seth’s wary smile pulled into a slight frown. ‘You didn’t intend to share the identities of her other students, did you?’

Violet should never have brought this truth up for discussion. She never should have even mentioned a confession at all. In a single moment, she had ruined everything.

She swallowed around the tension building in her throat. ‘I meant to initially, but then I got to know Lottie and now that I know Lady Caroline...’ Violet shook her head. ‘I looked back on what I had written previously and realised how hurtful those words could be to others.’ Her voice broke. ‘I couldn’t do the exposé. I don’t even want to write the column ever again. Of all people, I know how deeply words can cut.’ A hot tear slid down her face. ‘I never meant to hurt anyone.’

Seth brushed the moisture from her cheek. ‘You’ve never been malicious. I know you didn’t mean to cause harm.’

‘It’s terrible.’ Violet looked away, too ashamed to even face the man who meant more to her than she cared to admit. Even to herself.

‘You stopped before anyone could get truly hurt.’ He closed the distance between them. ‘Violet, you are a good person. Better than someone like me deserves.’

She was going to protest, but he pulled her against him, wrapping the strength of his arms around her. Her eyes closed at the embrace as all her senses gave in to him, savouring him. His clean scent, the heat of their bodies together, the undercurrent of desire humming in her blood.

Slowly, tenderly, he tilted her face upwards and closed his mouth over hers.

Seth would keep things chaste between them this time. Especially when they’d been nearly caught before. The garden in the rear of their homes was hardly a place for a tryst.

But when his mouth touched hers, when the sparks of attraction flickered to life, it was far too easy to linger. An extra caress of his lips against hers, a sampling just a beat too long of her sweet, delicate scent.

The powdery perfume of violets scented the air around him, immersing him in her. In Violet.

All of her consumed him, overwhelming his memories and ghosts with the most exquisite euphoria until Mont-Saint-Jean wasn’t even a whisper in his mind. He wanted to lose himself in the sensations of Violet—her softness, the sweetness, her lovely perfection. There wasn’t another place in all the world he’d rather be at that moment.

She gave a little hum of enjoyment and leaned into him, opening her mouth. Seth caught her face in his hand and kissed her once more, intending to keep things between them innocent.

But then Violet teased at his mouth with the tip of her tongue. The act was brazen and far more enticing than Seth wanted to admit. In that moment, he ought to have released her, backed away and bid her goodnight.

He ought to.

But he did not.

Not when the draw of losing himself in her was so damn alluring. Not when he had wanted this for so many years.

His hand slid into the back of her coiffure to gently angle her head to better access her mouth. The glossy strands were cool silk against his fingers. All of her was that way: smooth, lovely, perfect. His lips parted and he took control of the kiss once more, stroking his tongue against hers.

She whimpered and put her hand to his chest. The touch was simple, but the feelings it wrought were entirely far too complex. Longing, of course, but also affection, respect.

He shouldn’t—

She rose on her toes to further deepen their kisses and arched her body against him. He tried to resist the temptation. For her sake. For her reputation...

He shouldn’t be doing this, but damn him, he couldn’t walk away.

His hands skimmed down her body, brushing aside the fine fabric of her domino and whispering over the sides of her breasts as they descended down her curves. He recalled how she’d felt in his palm, her heavy breast, the hard nub of her nipple. He had fantasised about that moment often, replaying it in his mind, imagining taking it further.

Her hands smoothed over his chest, sampling the feel of him with the barrier of linen between them.