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“I very much doubt anyone has called you helpless.”
“They may not say it so directly, but they say it nonetheless. Even you are always calling me Little Cassie Fallon.” She gestured up and down him.
“I shall never do it again,” he vowed. “And believe me when I say I do not think of you as helpless or little.”
Which was a huge problem. He needed to think of her as Anton’s little sister still. For some reason, his repeated phrase had dissipated.
The carriage rocked over a bump and her hand flew to his chest.
“I do not think of you as little,” he repeated, his voice gruff.
She looked up at him from under her lashes. His cock twitched. Jaw tight, he tried to conjure the words that had prevented him from acting for so long but apparently his grasp of the English language had vanished. All he heard was the thud of his heart in his ears.
She smelled of vanilla and soap. Her hair shimmered gold. She leaned in.
By God, he was lost.
He didn’t know who reached for who first. Her hand curled into the lapel of his jacket as he latched a hand around the back of her neck. Luke pressed his lips to hers—hard, demanding, fervent.
She gasped.
He took all he could, fire burning through his veins at the taste of her. A hand to her hips, he drew her closer and she made a tiny noise of desire.
“Dear God,” he murmured before bringing his lips down on hers again with equal ferocity.
He could kiss this woman for an eternity. It was no lie—he did not see her as little anymore. She was a grown, beautiful woman with the most kissable lips on earth and he’d be damned if he could resist her.
“Guildbury Hall,” came a faint announcement from the front of the carriage.
Luke broke away, his hand still latched under her hair. He stared at her for several moments, his breaths coming hard and fast. Her eyes were wide and lips soft and red.
He dropped his hand swiftly. “Home,” he blurted out.
Cassie eyed him, her mouth slightly ajar. Then she jolted into action. “Oh yes.” She snatched up her gloves. “I shall—” She twisted on the seat. “That is—” She clambered out of the carriage before Luke had a chance to help her. She paused by the open door for a moment. “Um…Good day!”
He watched her scurry away then dropped his head into his hands. Just wonderful.
Chapter Twelve
The ball at Bishop’s Cross would usually have been the highlight of the Season for Cassie. Of course, usually, she was not investigating the suspicious death of a friend’s brother.
Usually she had not just kissed Viscount Whitehurst.
Her cheeks warmed in recollection and today she could not blame the close atmosphere of the ballroom. The spectacularly clear evening had allowed the huge doors of the room to be flung open, offering a gentle breeze that ruffled the feathers embedded in the elaborate hairstyles of many of the women. Unfortunately, the fresh air did nothing to erase the heat from Cassie’s face nor blow away the cobwebs of recollection that lingered in her mind.
She glanced Luke’s way. Normally she would not have paid much attention to his activities at such an event. But, as she was far too aware, things were not at all usual at present.
She blew out a breath. If only she could have cancelled but the invitation had been accepted ages ago and it would draw attention to her if she did not attend such events. If she intended to continue her inquiries, she could not afford for anyone to pay her notice.
Or at least, more notice than a duke’s daughter usually garnered.
Which was why she really ought to act normal. She had already declined several dances. She adored dancing. So what was wrong with her?
Unable to stop herself, she sought out Luke again. Nothing had changed since the kiss. Women still surrounded him, he still laughed and smiled. Why had she never noticed how much he flirted before? Why had it only just occurred to her that women flocked to him like ants to jam?
The kiss changed nothing. She would still investigate Theodore’s death and allow Luke to offer his protection. There would be many who would think her a vapid, silly thing due to her rank and privileged life but she was not foolish enough to turn down his offer. A man had threatened her and someone had died—even if it was not Theodore Parsons. If she was to help Jane, she needed to swallow her pride and allow Luke to play guardian.
She also needed to forget the kiss.
