Page 12 of Sin and Serendipity

“Not a chance,” he vowed, his eyes twinkling. Then he leaned back in his chair again. “Now, remember, I’m pretending to be Freddy, and you’re supposed to be flirting with me, not arguing.”

“I know, but…” She let out a soft sigh, her smile dimming. “I told you before, I’m not very good at flirting.”

“Hence, the reason for this exercise,” he said, his voice as crisp as a schoolmaster’s. “Now, the first rule of flirting is that a lady must never argue with a gentleman when he’s paying her a compliment.”

She arched one brow. “Even if the compliment isn’t entirely accurate?”

“Especially then,“ he said firmly. “If I tell you your eyes remind me of a woodland glade in autumn, you thank me. If I say your hair is as soft and downy as an angel’s wings, you thank me.”

Ellie had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at the outlandish compliments and the ever-so-serious manner with which he’d spouted them. Lord Darrington was proving to be a surprisingly amusing companion.

“And,” he continued, the words a low murmur now, “if I say your lips are sweet and ripe and sinfully kissable…”

Her breath caught in her throat. All levity had gone from his voice and his gaze was on her mouth, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. Hungry. An answering ache pooled low in her belly, and she shivered, her skin flushing hot.

No one had ever looked at her like that before.

For one wild moment she thought he might kiss her, and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers in an achingly soft caress, right here where anyone could see them…

But the viscount blinked and sat back in his chair, looking out across the lawn. “On second thought,” he said dryly, “if a man says anything like that to you, you should probably punch him on the nose.”

“Or kiss him, I suppose.” The words slipped out before she could catch them.

Lord Darrington turned to her again, his gaze locking on hers. “Yes,” he said, his voice husky. “Or kiss him.”

Ellie swallowed hard, mesmerized by the banked intensity in his seastorm eyes. What would it be like to kiss this man? What would he do if she leaned in and brushed her lips against his? Would he kiss her back? Would he push her away?

The urge to find out swept over her in a wave so strong she nearly gave into it, which terrified her enough to send her leaping to her feet in a rustle of skirts.

“I have to go,” she blurted out. “I—my mother will want me.”

Lord Darrington stood, his brows drawn together. “Ellie—“

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said, bobbing a hasty curtsy before turning and walking away, her half-empty glass of lemonade the only thing preventing her from sprinting across the lawn.

The excuse she’d given was nonsense, of course—her mother would much prefer she spend the afternoon with an eligible viscount—but it was all Ellie could think to say to make her escape. And she’d needed to escape.

What was the matter with her? What in heaven’s name had she been thinking? Had she truly been tempted to kiss the Viscount Darrington, of all people? He was a handsome man, to be sure, but she barely knew him, and wasn’t even sure she liked him.

She liked Freddy, though. Loved him, in fact. And when she received her first kiss, it should come from him, not some other man.

And certainly not from his brother.

Chapter Five

“Come along, Robert! Don’t dawdle,” Lady Darrington called over her shoulder, her steps uncharacteristically sprightly as they made their way toward the entrance to the art gallery.

Robert stifled a sigh and followed after her, taking the steps two at a time to catch up. “You’ve never asked me to accompany you to an art gallery before,” he said as they neared the massive oak doors, propped open to beckon patrons inside. “Tell me again why you wanted to come here today?”

His mother lifted one elegant shoulder. “Do I need a reason to spend the afternoon with my favorite eldest son?”

Her choice of words brought a smile to his lips. “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, there you are then,” she said, fussing with her blue cashmere shawl. “You should be glad I want to spend time with you. Not all mothers like their children, you know. You’re very fortunate to have me.”

“I know I am,” he said, leaning down to buss her cheek. “And thank you for inviting me today. I’m delighted to be here with you.”

“Of course you are! I am delightful company.” Her sparkling blue eyes met his and they shared a smile before walking arm-in-arm through the front doors.