Page 38 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

She’d earned these scrapes and flaws through hard work, and she was proud of that, but it did make it difficult to feel pretty. And she wanted to feel pretty now.

“Lily.”

She looked up and met Frederick’s gaze, her lips parting with the impulse to speak, to apologize, but the words caught in her throat when he reached out and took her hands in his again.

Surprise froze her, and she watched, motionless, as his gaze dipped, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. His hands were warm and strong, and as he swept his thumbs over her palms, calluses and all, his touch was so sweet, so good, she forgot her embarrassment.

“There is nothing ugly about your hands,” he said softly. “They’re strong and capable, like you.” His gaze rose to hers, deep blue and frankly admiring. “They’re beautiful, Lily. Because they’re yours.”

He raised her hands to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to first one palm and then the other, and Lily’s breath caught moments before she surged forward and stole a kiss for her lips.

He stilled, as if caught by surprise, and then he was moving, his hands stroking her wrists, his mouth meeting hers. He tasted like wine, rich and spicy, and his lips were firm yet gentle, each touch a spark to her growing need for more.

She leaned into him further, clutching his forearms, kissing him harder, no longer interested in gentle caresses. She wanted to let go, give in, lose herself in his arms, and she wanted the same from him.

She wanted him unbound.

“Frederick,” she whispered against his lips. “Kiss me. Please.” Her voice was taut with frustration and need, and she swept eager hands up his arms to clutch his shoulders.

“I thought I was,” Frederick replied with a smile in his voice before he brushed another gentle kiss to her mouth.

“Kiss me harder,” Lily demanded, burrowing her fingers in his thick, black hair. “Kiss me more.”

She covered his lips with hers, showing him what she wanted, asking for it with a gentle tug on his hair.

Frederick’s arms clamped around her waist as a low groan rumbled from his throat, and finally, at last, he succumbed to her wishes. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue sweeping deep, and Lily gave a whimper of pure, unadulterated need.

She pressed into him, tangling her tongue with his as she curved her arms around his neck, her shawl falling from her shoulders to the bench.

His hands found the small of her back, his bare palms warming her skin even through her corset and gown. He swept his hands up her back then down again, circling her hips, his touch hungry, his kiss hungrier.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured between kisses. “I promised my sister I wouldn’t trifle with you.”

“You’re not.” She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m trifling with you.”

A throaty groan escaped his lips just before she kissed him again, and she could feel the pounding of his heart beneath her hands where they rested on his chest.

She slid her palms under his jacket to caress the sleek silk of his waistcoat, and the intimacy of that touch made her own heart hammer.

She never knew kissing a man could feel like this. She never knew it could make her body ache and her skin burn until every inch of her craved to be touched, stroked, claimed.

“Lily...” Frederick’s rough voice held a warning, or perhaps a plea, but whatever it was, she knew what it signaled.

“No,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, the ridge of his jaw. “Don’t stop. Please. Not unless you want to.” She drew back so she could see his face in the moonlight, uncertainty tensing every muscle in her body.

Frederick’s throat worked, indecision sparking in his eyes. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Lily. I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

His mouth twisted. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Nonsense,” she said bluntly, irritated now as she slipped her hands from his chest and sat back with a frown. “Your sister told you to stay away from me. She’s trying to protect me because she thinks I’ll be hurt again.”

Frederick’s silence confirmed the charge, and Lily blew out a frustrated breath.

“As I have already told Penelope, I can look after myself. I don’t need to be coddled by her, or you.”

“I know that, Lily.”

“But?”

Again, he said nothing.

“You agree with her, don’t you?” Her voice was an angry rasp. “You think I’m in danger of losing my heart to you.”

“No,” he said quietly, a wry smile curling his lips. “But I do think I’m in danger of losing my heart to you.”

And with that stunning confession, he rose to his feet, bid her a good night and left.