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She lit a candle and then walked the entire room until convinced no one was in the library with her. Then she waited. Finally, at close to midnight, she heard foot
steps echoing down the corridor. Lord Ainsley strolled into the room with a smile.
“I thought your headache might prevent you from keeping our engagement,” he said as he walked toward her.
“No, I would not miss this for anything,” Emma whispered nervously. Her heart pounded with anticipation as he drew near.
“Neither would I,” he said before lowering his head.
His lips touched hers, and she waited for that same high-pitched excitement she’d felt with Kingsley. But nothing happened. Ainsley's touch was gentle and very pleasant, she supposed. Slowly she pulled away and glanced to the floor.
“I suppose this means I should take my courtship elsewhere?” Ainsley asked with a relaxed smile. “Do not worry, Miss Drake. I felt the same way.”
“You did?” Emma didn’t think she would ever understand attraction between two people. It made no sense. Standing in front of her was what she’d been brought up to believe was the perfect husband. And she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him. Instead, a poor rake and a scoundrel whom she didn’t even like sent her emotions tumbling.
“Yes,” he said with a look of resignation. “To be honest, I’d hoped for a match strictly for the money Harry is offering. But...”
“But your heart was never in it,” she completed the sentence. “Because you’ve always been in love with Lady Hollington.”
He gave a little shrug. “I supposed I have been. Clarissa wasn’t supposed to marry Hollington, but I was in Brussels with Wellington. Then again, I also wasn’t supposed to be the earl.”
“She is widowed now and almost out of mourning.”
Ainsley closed his eyes and shook his head. “She would never have me.”
“I am sorry to hear that, my lord. You are a fine gentleman.”
His lips tilted upward. “Goodnight, Miss Drake.”
“Goodnight, my lord.”
She waited for a moment to let him get to his room without her trailing behind. Now she was sure that she had to leave and avoid Kingsley at all costs, even if that meant not visiting her sister as often. At least until she found a way to overcome this mad attraction to him. Once she returned to town, she wouldn’t see him much at all, and that would give her time to find another man, a better man, by which to be tempted.
Realizing Ainsley must have reached his bedchamber by now, she took a step toward the door and then stopped abruptly. “What are you doing down here?”
Leaning against the doorframe, Kingsley alluded sensuality with a knowing smile on his dark face. “Did you enjoy Ainsley’s kiss as much as mine?”
There was a tightness to his voice as if he were trying to hide his anger or jealousy. It sent a sliver of apprehension down her body, but Emma was not about to back down. “Yes, it was a lovely kiss that made my toes curl.”
“Did it now?” He tilted his head until it rested against the doorframe. “You are a terrible liar, Miss Drake.”
“Or perhaps you are not as good of a kisser as you believe.” Blast! Why had she blurted that out? She knew he couldn’t resist a dare.
He smiled fully, revealing a row of straight white teeth. He took one step into the room and closed the door behind him. “I believe there is only one way to determine who is right in this matter.”
“There is no need for that. I am tired and wish to retire.”
“By all means,” he said, still standing in front of the door.
She stiffened her spine, picked up the candle, and took five steps to the door until she stood next to him. “Please be a gentleman and remove yourself from the doorway.”
“When have I ever professed to be a gentleman?” He leaned toward the candle and blew it out, plunging the room into darkness.
“Mr. Kingsley, I insist—”
A demanding kiss cut off her words. Simon spun her around until her back touched the wood door, trapping her against his hard body. The candlestick fell to the ground with a loud clink. The darkness of the room sent her imagination soaring. She wondered why she thought she felt his hand cup her breast. He would never do such a thing, would he?
“Did he touch you like this?” Kingsley asked as his thumb rolled over the tip of her breast until it peaked under his ministration.
