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She barely had time to ponder that odd comment before his hands began roaming, skimming down her waist and hips, traveling back up to dance along her ribs. In long, slowly widening strokes, his hands learned the contours of her body as surely as his lips and tongue learned her mouth. Soon she craved not only his kisses, but his caresses, too. He made her want to caress him back, to smooth her hands over his arms and chest and—
The soft thuds at her feet warned that she’d dropped the chess pieces. She didn’t care. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.
He smiled down at her triumphantly. “There go the bones melting. That would be checkmate.” Then he proceeded to kiss her senseless again.
Even his arrogant comments didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. Delighted to have her hands empty once more, she took advantage of it to slide them inside his coat, between the layers of superfine and silk. It was warm in there, and his waistcoat fit him so well she could feel his muscles flex beneath the fabric, beneath the touch of her fingers. Her hands grazed his ribs, and he groaned, then kissed her more fiercely.
But everything changed when he swept his hand down from her neck to cup her breast. At first, she was too lost in the kiss to notice. Then he began to knead and stroke her through the muslin, which was enough to drag her to her senses.
“Sebastian, stop that!” she cried as she shoved him away from her. “Whatever do you think you’re doing?” She backed up instinctively and knocked over the chess table. It hit the carpet with a muffled boom, pieces scattering everywhere.
He ignored it. His breath was labored, his eyes an intense, predatory black that made a wanton shiver snake down her spine. “I believe, madam, I’ve been proving I can kiss well enough even to suit your finicky tastes.”
She could hardly deny it. She’d responded to those kisses with all the enthusiasm of a wicked demi-rep. “That didn’t mean you should…that you could—”
“Even a respectable dullard of a gentleman gets carried away when a woman is letting him make her bones melt.”
Oh, how mortifying. She could already feel the blush rising in her cheeks.
He shoved his hands in his frock coat pockets as if afraid to leave them out where they might touch her again. “Or perhaps I’m simply not as ‘respectable’ as you took me for. Which should make our future lessons far more useful to you.”
“There will be no more future lessons of that sort,” she snapped.
“Is everything all right in here?” barked a voice from the doorway.
Juliet swung around to see Griff standing in the doorway. Please don’t let him have seen us kissing, she prayed.
She shot Sebastian a glance, only to find his gaze probing her face, as if he waited for her to tattle. But this was between the two of them and always had been. She’d handle this in her own way, in her own time.
Griff entered, his eyes shifting back and forth from her to Sebastian, whose grim expression showed a man determined to face the consequences of his actions.
It was a little late for that, she thought testily. He should have done it years ago.
“Hello, Griff.” She fought to sound normal, to scour the husky need from her voice. “We were just playing chess.”
When Sebastian glanced sharply at her, she answered him with a warning look. What did he expect—that she’d admit before her brother-in-law that she’d been allowing Sebastian to put his hands all over her?
Griff regarded the table and the scattered pieces with suspicion. “Chess?”
“I was winning.” Sebastian fixed his heated gaze on her. “I called checkmate and got Lady Juliet so agitated that she dropped some pieces. When she went to retrieve them, she knocked the table over. Now we’ll have to play again.”
Leave it to Lord Arrogant to trumpet his victory any way he could. And in the process make her sound like a ninny. “Considering my clumsiness, I don’t think that’s wise, do you?” Oh, why must she sound so breathy…and…and wanton? “I wouldn’t want to destroy your table.”
“I’d happily risk a broken table to make you feel at ease in my home, Lady Juliet.” Sebastian’s smoky voice swirled round her like a fragrant Oriental incense, offering temptation…oblivion…satisfaction.
She swallowed, reminded of his similar statement in his study: I’ll risk a little pain to get what I want.
Why was that? He acted as if he wanted her when she knew he didn’t. Was he simply too proud to accept that she mightn’t welcome his advances? Or was he trying to throw her off balance so she wouldn’t unmask him?
Lord knew he was devious enough for any such machinations.
Griff frowned at Sebastian. “My coachman tells me it’s warming sufficiently today to melt some of the snow. We ought to be able to leave by the day after tomorrow at the latest. I know you’re glad to hear that.”
“Not at all, I assure you,” Sebastian answered, though his fiery gaze never left her face. “I enjoy company once in a while.”
Especially certain company, his look seemed to say. Drat it all, she was blushing again. The devil knew precisely how to unsettle her.
To think she’d let him kiss her so passionately again! And worse still, that she’d enjoyed it, wanted him to do more, to kiss and fondle her and make desire course through her, as hot, sweet, and spiced as mulled wine…
