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“I saw everything. From the crown of your head to the...” her gaze swept bravely downward, “...area below.”
“Bloody Hell,” he muttered. “I didn’t know anyone was watching.”
“Clearly.”
“What were you doing lurking in my shrubbery, Miss Penny?”
She swallowed. There was only one thing to be done, one explanation for her presence that wouldn’t betray her true intent. “What I saw gave me... ideas.”
“Ideas.” Alarm flashed in his eyes. “Now see here, MissPenny, you’re a young lady of good family and you should be home safe in your bed, not spying on—”
“Ideas aboutkissing.”
“Kissing.” He crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “Absolutely not.”
“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, I think I’ll kiss you now.”
And she did.
Chapter8
She kissed him.Reallykissed him.
It was so surprising that Drew didn’t respond. He just stood there like an oak tree as she twined her arms around him, tugging his head down to her level.
Clinging lips. Scent sweet and clean. Soft breasts against his chest.
Just like his dream, only sans daisies and sheep.
Like a dream, only so achingly real. Solid, warm woman kissing him, trying to coax a reaction from him. She made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat and redoubled her efforts.
You’ve still got it, you handsome devil.
Their interlude in the garden shed hadn’t been enough for her. She’d been gazing at his window and she’d been overwhelmed by the sight of him pleasuring himself. Which was somewhat embarrassing and... damn it, she was still kissing him.
He should do something about that.
Clearly the girl had a taste for danger. She couldn’t just go around kissing anyone she fancied.
Her tongue slipped inside his mouth in a tentative yet brave exploratory expedition. She tasted of brandy.
He pulled back. The brandy bottle on Rafe’s desk was suspiciously uncorked. “Have you been drinking my brandy, Miss Penny?”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Maybe?”
“You taste like caramelized sin.” He should end this now but he wanted more.
Just one more taste of her lips.
He should tell her to leave. Or he could take control. Kiss her again, but slower this time. More deliberate. Set a new tempo.
When he deepened the kiss, she followed his lead, opening wider, taking more of him and giving more of herself.
All the time in the world. No reason to rush.
She moaned and he swallowed the sound and asked for more. He’d been starving, he realized. Starving for this... for her. He’d thought of little else since he’d seen her undressing, like some mirage summoned from his most secret desires.
Her hands tangled in his hair, her head tilted back, throat exposed. He kissed the base of her throat, the delicate hollow of her shoulder.
