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The heat in his eyes surrounded her—like entering a warm house on a frozen, snowy night.
Rough, strong fingers caressed her cheek and he dragged a thumb across her lower lip.
He touched her with confidence and self-assurance so profound that every lineament of his body, every brush of his fingers, proclaimed: Worship me.
His large hand cupped her chin and tilted her head back.
Still no kiss.
It was the anticipation that made her tingle. The utter certainty that she was in the hands of a master and would soon receive her first lesson in the practical application of the principles of pleasure.
Finally, his lips touched hers softly, only a subtle pressure... a whisper.
He stroked the back of her neck with both his large hands, his thumbs tilting her jaw into the embrace. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her dimples. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, asking her lips to... open?
Gracious. Well, if that’s what rakes expected...
She opened for him and his tongue slipped inside her mouth. It felt so foreign to taste him inside her. Ripe, sugary fig flavor of sherry. Warm, firm lips.
She’d read about the pressing kind of kiss... when tongues met and conversed... but what on earth was she supposed to do with her tongue?
He deepened the kiss, angling her head back, his hands bracketing her cheeks, positioning her lips, his tongue stroking hers with sure, commanding movements.
Oh. My. No more time to think. This kiss was becoming serious.
She clasped her arms around his neck, showing him that she approved.
She opened her mouth wider. He entered deeper and made a low moaning sound that traveled through her body and settled somewhere in her belly.
His hands moved to her waist, shaping and squeezing through the layers of lace and muslin, and his thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts.
The warm, bubbly sensation in her chest heightened, made her press against him, wrap her arms tighter, seeking... something.
When his lips left hers, she made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat. She didn’t want the kiss to end. Not when it was becoming so promisingly educational.
He gazed into her eyes, his lips tilted up at one corner. “Well?”
You’re hired, Alice thought. “Ah yes... that was... quite satisfactory. I will marry you, Lord Hatherly,” she blurted.
You ninny,she thought. Don’t make him even more conceited.
Why did he make her so uncharacteristically flustered?
He set her away from him and readjusted his cuffs. “I’ll pound on the door until your enterprising father arrives and then we may inform him of the glad tidings.” He offered her his arm. She slid her hand over the solid steel muscles beneath the fine fabric of his coat. How did he keep himself so very fit? she wondered. And was he this solid... everywhere?
She’d thought of him as a map earlier, and she’d been determined to cross him, outwit him, and rid herself of him swiftly. Now it appeared he could be a map of an entirely different variety.
A new land she would soon have the opportunity to explore. And, if his kiss was any indication, the exploration would be very enlightening, indeed.
This was the perfect convenient arrangement for both of them.
Alice smoothed her skirts and jabbed her hairpins back into place. “Please don’t mention my travel plans to Papa.”
“It will be our little secret.”
“We’ll let him think you kissed me into compliance.”
“Oh, but I did, Dimples,” he said with a thoroughly wicked smile.
“Ha!” Well, it was only partially true. “You may tell yourself so, Lord Hatherly, if that’s what you need to believe.”
