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She pushed herself up onto her toes, stood, then bent over to get a close look at the slice across his arm. If she knew how to stitch a wound closed, this would probably be a good time to do so. Tying a tight bandage about it would have to do. Or did they need to call for a surgeon?
Her fingers went onto the skin along the top of the wound, prodding at the flesh. What did Jasper always say? If you could see deep into the muscle in a wound, it needed to be closed by stitches? But Evan was all muscle. Muscles twitching constantly under her fingertips as she poked along him. Skin that reacted to her slightest touch. So hard. Strong.
Her eyes drifted onto his chest and the most peculiar thing happened. A pang, deep within her, sparked into a blaze.
She froze, her fingers on his skin beside the wound stilling.
Hell.She hadn’t felt that in years—six, not that she was counting. Pure wanton spikes shooting through her core, her body wanting what was in front of her.
The slightest gasp parted her lips and her gaze lifted. He’d turned back to her, his grey eyes locked on hers, their breath between them heating until it scorched the very air.
Saints to hell.She was going to kiss the man.
She moved up, her lips meeting his by their own idiotic force.
Not even a heartbeat and he responded, his right hand lifting, sinking into the hair at the back of her head. His mouth instantly took over, his lips parting, tongue tasting, the carnal instinct in him spinning into a firestorm.
She leaned deeper into the kiss and he pulled back slightly, his breath a whisper on her pulsating lips. “We don’t have to do this—it’s not what I’m paying you for.”
She scoffed a soft chuckle. “Make no mistake—it’s not what I’m taking your coin for.”
His lips crashed back onto hers and her fingers slipped around his neck, wanting to touch more of his body, feel the beat of his heart under the pads of her fingertips.
Her head tilted to the side, her mouth parting to give him full access to her, and he dove forth, his tongue tasting her, devouring her. Just when she thought the blood pounding through her veins couldn’t become more insistent, the kiss spiraled into more heat, sparking a whirlwind that threatened to light ablaze everything around them.
Too much.
She yanked her head back, breaking his hold on her and she stumbled two steps backward. “I’m sorry—I can’t start something.” Her head shook, her fingers going to her swollen lips. “I know enough not to play with fire. It’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”
Evan jumped to his feet, both of his hands lifting, his palms to her. “No apologies from you, Juliet. Ever. I should not have kissed you.”
“I started it.”
“And I should have ended it.” He turned to pick up his lawn shirt and pulled it over his head. Grabbing his waistcoat and coat, he bowed his head to her. “I’ll go see to another room posthaste.”
Silent, her fingers still at her lips, she watched him exit the room.
For as much as her body wanted to stop him, to drag his shirt back off and run her fingers across his gloriously hard chest, her mind demanded the opposite.
And her mind ruled with an iron fist.
{ Chapter 6 }
What in the devil had possessed him to be an idiot and kiss her?
Evan glanced to his right to study Juliet’s profile. Even on horseback, she managed perfect posture. Shoulders back, her legs folded neatly under her skirts in the sidesaddle, her hands on the reins with ease.
Her face looked different, though. Softer, more relaxed the further they travelled from London. Like the weight of the world was lifting from her petite shoulders.
Half a day’s worth of riding and she looked as fresh as when she’d gotten on the horse inBicester.
For his part, Evan had been nothing but a reserved gentleman the whole morning. Inquiring into her childhood, what she liked about London, asking about her friends. She had the ability to tell entertaining stories—spirited and funny and exactly how he imagined her entertaining gentlemen at the Den. Which should irk his sensibilities, but didn’t.
She transfixed him nonetheless.
For her part, she’d been nothing but the lively, charming lady. Answering each of his inquiries with light, cursory anecdotes and not pressing him when he gave grunting, one- and two-word answers to her questions of him.
Neither one of them wanted to touch upon what had passed between them the previous night. Searing heat that had no place in either of their lives.
