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“Yes, well, Merry invited the entire table to an intimate dinner on Friday. Now I am escorting you home because I promised your grandfather I would. Lilford has to take his sister straight home, and your grandfather chose to leave with him.”
Cleo frowned at him. “I fully meant to break off our connection. What if I had?”
Jake looked down at her, his eyes crinkling with a smile that didn’t show on his lips. “I would have convinced you otherwise.”
“But what if you couldn’t? What if you had intended to make Merry your bride? What if you—”
His thumb rubbed over her lips. “You need to trust me, Cleo. I’m not your mother, moving from one lover to another without thought. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
Cleo managed a wavering smile. “I don’t know why I feel so shaken. I’m very independent.”
“You are independent and confident, and I love that.” His kiss was so deep and searching that she found herself leaning against him, legs trembling.
But she shook her head. “No.”
“No kisses?”
“Not that.” Cleo sighed, leaning her head against his absurd coat, loving the strong beat of his heart. “Kisses are meaningless. No one knows that better than I do. No more kissing, Jake. If we are to get to know each other, this feeling shouldn’t be a part of it.”
“I have a word of the day for you,” he growled. “‘Carnal.’”
“That’s what we should avoid,” she pointed out. “Carnal kisses are meaningless.”
“Mine aren’t,” Jake growled.
He kissed her in the carriage all the way back to Germain’s to prove his point, and then left at her door with a final kiss that ended with a nip of her lower lip and a muttered comment about her being a witch.
Cleo closed the door and leaned against it, smiling at the ceiling. Her blood felt like warm honey, and her knees were weak.
Through the door she heard a growling voice.
“Tomorrow morning. Kippers. Coffee.”
“No kisses,” she ordered.
His throaty groan made her think about him. Carnal mouth. Carnal cheekbones. Carnal . . . Could forearms be carnal?
She had the feeling that Samuel Johnson hadn’t included that word in his dictionary.
Chapter Twenty
7, Cavendish Square, London
Residence of the Duke of Trent
An Intimate Dinner
“The Earl of Lilford and Lady Lydia Renwick.”
Jake grimaced, disappointed that it wasn’t Cleo. She had insisted on attending Merry’s dinner with her grandfather and Byng.
“Why in the hell did you invite Lilford?” he asked, dropping his voice because he was escorting Merry across the drawing room to greet her guests.
“Lady Lydia needs practice in society, as her mother is no longer with us. If she is not careful, her reputation will be ruined.”
Jake grunted.
“You know how much I hate the way gossip can mar a lady’s reputation. I have already heard blather suggesting that she is a hoyden who deliberately showed her petticoats at Vauxhall.”
