Page 47 of Just a Little Daring

“I’m glad you think so, but… I believe I need further instruction,” she said, endeavouring to give him her haughtiest tone of voice.

“Do you now?” he said, a rough quality to his words that made excitement skitter down her spine. “Well, then I had best oblige, hadn’t I?”

Vivien gasped as he kissed her again, aware this time of how much he had held back as she was pulled hard against him, and his mouth captured hers. Heat swept through her, and a maddening sort of ache began low in the pit of her stomach. Instinct drove her closer, pressing her body against his, for only he could give her the antidote to this sudden burn in her blood that threatened to drive her to insanity. Her breath caught as his arousal pressed against her, tangible evidence of his desire that only made her pulse accelerate to an even greater speed. Eagerly, she sought more contact, needing to be closer still. August groaned, his hand skimming up her side to her breast. Vivien arched towards his touch, needing more, gasping as he thumbed her nipple. Even through the layers of her clothing, his touch was electric, making her giddy with wanting. August broke the kiss, burying his face in her neck and kissing her throat.

“Viv, Christ, stop, love. I —I can’t… Hell!”

He thrust her away from him, holding her at arm’s length, and regarded her with wary amusement.

“You are dangerous,” he said, sounding as if he’d been running for his life, though his crooked smile reassured her his words were playful.

“Me?” Vivien said, fighting for breath. “You speak for yourself. I… I can barely stand. My knees feel most peculiar.”

“Come here,” he said, pulling her back into his arms and settling her head against his shoulder. He held her gently, his chin resting gently atop her head, one hand stroking her back as Vivien leaned into him. Oh, this was heavenly. She laid her hand upon his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm. Closing her eyes, she savoured the moment, the closeness that felt so perfectly wonderful, even though the desire for more still simmered in her blood. She nuzzled against his coat, enjoying the masculine scent of clean linen and shaving soap, and something pleasantly spicey she could not quite name but hoped would become familiar and dear to her.

“I’ll speak to your father when we get back to the hotel,” he murmured against her hair.

Viv dared a glance up at him, wanting to read his expression, to be certain this was what he really wanted, that desire alone was not what motivated him. She had received too many offers of that nature, men who would marry her because they wanted her in their beds, and were prepared to overlook what they saw as her faults to indulge that desire. Rejecting their offers had not been difficult. She would never marry a man who viewed her in such a way. August stared down at her.

“I think you were made for me, Vivien Anson. I was a damned fool not to realise that sooner. It terrifies me now, to think I might have run away from you, when only you could make me this ridiculously happy. I was seeking something I didn’t even want, for reasons that elude me now. Can you forgive me for being such a dolt?”

Vivien smiled, hearing nothing but sincerity in his words. This man would always stand beside her, and do it with love and pride, and no regrets.

“There’s nothing to forgive. Will you kiss me again?”

He chuckled and pressed his mouth swiftly to hers, lingering for a moment before he pulled away with a sigh of regret. “Don’t temp me any further, love, or we’ll get ourselves in an awful pickle. The fine weather will tempt people to the gardens soon and I’ve no desire to explain myself to your father if we get caught in a compromising situation.”

“It’s early yet,” Viv grumbled.

“Yes, and your father’s an intimidating devil. Let me at least assure him of my honourable intentions before we get ourselves into mischief.”

The regret in his eyes was reassuring, so Viv gave a heavy sigh but took his proffered arm. “He knows you’re honourable, else he would never have bailed you out. He doesn’t care about reputations and scandals in the same way other people do. Papa is not like most peers because he doesn’t give a fig for what polite society thinks, and they know it.”

August nodded, looking thoughtful. “I know that, and I have always admired him for going his own way. I’ve heard the stories, of course, about his past, about how he ran away from home as a boy and lived on the streets and still made a success of himself.”

Vivien studied him, realising that August had lost his father far too young, had become the head of a household of unruly women at an age when he ought to have had no more worries than being told off for getting into another scrape at school. He had carried a significant burden and now, in marrying her, he might feel he was adding to it, but she would disabuse him of that notion as soon as she could. Marrying her would only mean they could share any burdens between them.

“I believe he admires you too, August.”

“What on earth for?” he demanded, looking genuinely bewildered.

“Oh, August,” she said, laughing ruefully and shaking her head. “I think I shall let Papa explain that to you.”

Louis smiled as Evie let out a huff of frustration.

“Oh, drat it. Another dead end. I felt certain this was the right way. We shall be here all day at this rate.” She glared at the thick green hedge in consternation and turned back to him with a swish of skirts and petticoats.

“Tant pis,” Louis murmured, not minding the idea in the least.

“You’re not helping much,” she said, giving him a sideways glance.

Louis shrugged. “But you are doing admirably, ma petite.”

“No, I’m not,” she laughed. “We’re horribly lost.”

“Alas, such a dreadful fate to be lost in a labyrinth with me.”

Evie’s expression was one of amusement now as she took his proffered arm. “You’re fishing for compliments,” she observed.