Page 25 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

“I have one sister.”

She did not offer anything more, hoping he would let the matter drop, but he did not oblige her this time.

“And is she in London with your parents?”

“Yes.” Her hands tightened around the ladder. And she’s married to the man who should have been mine.

“Is she—”

“You certainly do ask a lot of questions, Mr. Darrington,” she interrupted. “Are you always this inquisitive?”

His low chuckle grew louder as he descended the ladder, and Lily stepped back to clear the way, averting her gaze like a lady should, even in the face of temptation.

“It’s Frederick, remember?” he said, turning to face her. “And, to answer your question: no, I’m not. But there’s something about you that inspires my curiosity.”

Lily frowned at him, though she could not deny her heart had skipped a beat. “I can’t imagine what that could be. There is nothing especially interesting about me.”

Frederick arched a brow, his smile teasing as he leaned in to say, “And yet, I am interested.”

Her cheeks warmed, and her throat went dry, as if her entire body had felt those words and liked them far too much.

She swallowed, and because she simply could not help it, her gaze dropped to his lips, and that affable, oh-so-alluring smile. She wanted to press her lips to that smile, taste it for herself and caress it with her tongue until her curiosity was satisfied and neither of them could stand the torment a single moment longer...

Frederick leaned in further, and Lily’s breath hitched, her heart racing as her gaze flew to his.

“Your Mr. Carstairs is watching us,” he murmured low, his eyes locked on hers, and although she understood the reason for it, she shivered all the same when he brushed his knuckles across her cheek.

“Shall I kiss you?” he asked, the pad of his thumb tracing her jaw, her chin.

Lily blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Because begging his pardon was better than begging for his kiss.

“Mr. Carstairs,” he repeated. “Your unwanted suitor? He’s watching us through a window. I thought perhaps you might like to give him something worth seeing.”

Lily was not a foolish person. She knew a bad idea when she saw one, and fake engagement or not, kissing Frederick Darrington was a very bad idea.

Still, even smart girls made mistakes. And some mistakes were worth making.

“Yes,” she said, over her thundering heart. “All right.”

Something akin to approval sparked in his gaze and then he nudged her chin up gently with his thumb, his fathomless eyes fixed on her lips.

He dipped his head with unhurried, focused intent, and Lily let her eyes slide closed, and the subtle scent of his spicy cologne enveloped her, heating her blood and fraying her nerves. Her body seemed to have forgotten that this wasn’t real, that it was nothing but a performance. Or perhaps her body simply didn’t care.

Perhaps she didn’t care.

Perhaps she simply wanted this kiss, no matter the reason for it.

Frederick’s lips brushed over hers, a fleeting touch, soft and warm, and while he did not taste of apples, he was delicious all the same. Maybe it was the thrill of playacting, or the fact that it had been a very long time since she’d enjoyed a man’s kiss, but that brief brush of his lips on hers rocked her to her core and lit her up inside.

“Lily?”

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked, scrambling to gather her wits.

It was not a real kiss, Lily.

She repeated it twice then met Frederick’s gaze. “Is Mr. Carstairs gone?”