Page 22 of Love and Other Disasters

Her gaze shifted to look over his shoulder, and then Sophie moved around him, peering down the shadowed hall as if searching for someone.

Jasper turned her back to face him. “Continue.”

She shook her head, and then pointedly looked down at his hand where it rested on her arm.

Jasper let his fingers caress her flesh instead of releasing her. Her breath caught and her eyelashes fluttered. Jasper leaned close, intrigued by her reaction. “Tell me, was there ever a Mr. Radcliffe?”

“No.” She frowned at him. “Mrs. is an honorific title all governesses assume in their employment.”

So, no husband in her past. He met her gaze and realized he yearned to kiss her. It was quite a shock to discover she could affect him twice. He was never usually drawn to proper women. And yet this one claimed to know a madam. “Tell me, are you an innocent?”

She took a long time to answer that question, but when it came, a slight shake of her head, Jasper’s breath rushed from his lungs. Relief and anticipation coursed through him. For the whole of their acquaintance, he’d treated Sophie a certain way. He’d thought her dull, timid, and uninteresting. Forbidden. Proper. A stickler for the proprieties. He’d avoided her to spare himself the difficulty of speaking to a woman of supposedly high morals. “Well now. That changes things indeed.”

She raised her chin. “I am no whore.”

Despite her words, he grinned. Not prim, but not utterly fallen, either. That made him like her more. Could that be the reason he needled her so often? Why her pert responses tormented him? This feeling stirring between them was lust and frustration on his part. She was more of a kindred spirit than his opposite. Somehow he’d sensed that from the first time they’d met.

He bent his head down to whisper, “If I had kissed you yesterday, what would you have done?”

“You didn’t.” Her fingertip landed on his chest, flexing slightly against the wool of his waistcoat. Jasper captured her finger in the same fashion she’d held him yesterday, and she did not shove him away, just as he hadn’t been able to do. Her eyes lifted to his. “You don’t like me.”

The blood pumping through his veins right now, loud and urgent, claimed otherwise. This was a woman he wanted. “Apparently, that doesn’t appear to be the case anymore.” He smiled as he touched her hair where it hung forward and then moved it back over her shoulder. Touching Sophie seemed a luxury he never knew he wanted. “However, it is not up to me if we kiss or not. I’m sure you would rather my brother put—”

Her lips were suddenly on his, and a whimper broke from her throat as she jerked him close.

At last.

Sophie’s arms wound tight around his neck, and her lips parted to admit his questing tongue. She was warm and lovely, and Jasper’s surprise died quickly as he got lost in the taste and feel of her slender body pressed against his. With next to nothing between his hands and her skin, he eagerly learned the delights of her curves.

He drew back, panting, and then kissed her again, wrapping her in his arms tightly, pressing her against the wall. He could get lost in her kisses…and discovered he’d always wanted an excuse to shut her up with his mouth.

But before he could decide what might next happen between them, she pushed him back with a hard shove and turned her face away. “Wait!”

Jasper looked at Radcliffe and heard only the rush of desire coursing through his veins, turning his world upside down. “It’s natural to feel unsettled by a good kiss,” he whispered.

“Oh, I know exactly what a wicked kiss makes me feel.” Her head swung around to the nursery door, then she turned to glance down the hall again. “Is that crying?”

Radcliffe fled down the hall, leaving him standing in front of the nursery, alone and aroused.

Jasper stormed after her, shaking his fist. “Don’t walk away when we are finally kissing each other! You liked it, I know you did.”

“I did not say I didn’t,” Radcliffe threw out and then rushed down the stairs a few steps more. She stopped; head cocked to one side. “I’m sure I heard…”

“Woman, how do you expect me to hear or even think about anything besides getting you into my arms again after that kiss,” he complained.

But her steps away from his arms continued, at least until she rushed into the family wing, where his own room was located. He brightened. Well, it seemed she was eager for more than just kisses.

He pursued her, grinning, but Sophie paused every few feet and put her ear to every door. When she stopped at his door, she finally turned to look at him. There was confusion in her expression as she caught his gaze. Her shoulders slumped. “You should deal with that.”

He shook his head. “Deal with what? The fact that you’re an impossible flirt?”

“Don’t you hear the crying?”

“Crying? What crying?” He stormed toward her and then stopped dead, his gaze moving beyond her to his door. “There should be no crying coming from my chambers.”

“And yet there is,” she said. And then without so much as a by your leave, she threw open the doors of his bedchamber and slipped inside.

He heard the wailing, clear as day then. A vastly unhappy sound was coming from his rooms when none should have been heard. Jasper pursued the governess—and then froze to see a tiny figure flailing about on his enormous bed. “What the hell is this?”