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“Are you a scoundrel pretending to be a gentleman?” she asked, more curious about him than she had earlier been.
“Perhaps.” His mouth curved slyly, and he sat in a chair so she could better tend to him.
When she was sure she could clean the cut without blood interfering, she removed the cloth and picked up a bottle of liquor. Then she looked up at him, and whispered, “Hold your breath.”
He inhaled but kept his gaze on her. Grace was a little nervous for him when she began to pour the liquor into his shoulder. Every other muscle on his body tensed, and he cursed.
She found a needle from the box and held it to the flame of a candle on the same table for a short while, then she threaded the needle and leaned over his shoulder again. “Do you want to bite down on something?” she asked, wishing for him to be comfortable.
“No, I do not,” he replied tensely. “And please, do not dally.”
Grace did not respond as she gently pulled the skin together and began to stitch. For several minutes, her attention was entirely on her task, and she felt incredibly triumphant when she straightened to look down at her handiwork.
She smiled at him and murmured, “You shall live,” before she took the other strip of linen to bind his shoulder with.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You are welcome.” Their eyes held for a moment, and Grace had to remind herself that she had not finished her task. He raised his arm for her to run the strip under twice. After making a small knot, she found another cloth and cleaned the rest of the blood that had run down his chest.
“Tell me, how did you manage to get stabbed at a ball?” she asked.
“I was attempting to steal a kiss.” The seductive note in his voice raised her head to see the hunger behind his gaze.
Her mouth and throat suddenly grew dry, and she swallowed. “From who?”
“A lovely red-haired woman with a commendable skill in mending wounds.” He gently took her elbow and drew her onto his lap. Tucking a finger under her chin, he drew her face down to his.
Grace’s blood began to pound fiercely with desire, and she closed her eyes, waiting for and anticipating the moment their lips would touch. She had been enamored with him from the instant she saw him, and she believed a kiss would be the reward for both her effort and patience.
He lightly brushed his lips against hers, electrifying her, before properly kissing her. His mouth was firm but gentle against hers, and his tongue caressed her lips before slipping between them. Grace was unable to help the little moan that made its way out of her throat, and she shifted slightly on his lap, yearning for more.
One of his arms circled her waist, while his other hand caressed the back of her neck, tickling her senses. Grace absently held his shoulders, then clutched them, and he hissed, biting her lip. The pleasure that made her heart pound faster and the region between her thighs quivering was as unexpected as it was thrilling.
He stilled, then broke the kiss to look at her, surprise in his eyes. “You found that enjoyable, did you not?” he asked. She nodded, and he immediately returned his lips to hers, biting her again. He nipped her skin as his mouth moved from her lips, down her neck, and to her chest. She arched her back, inviting him to do more, but he slowed, and she groaned in protest. He raised his head to look at her, his eyes burning.
“Are you married?” he asked, and she shook her head. “And you are not a widow?”
She shook her head again, and said, “This is my first season.”
He closed his eyes as if he regretted kissing her. “You should go if you would like to keep your virtue.”
His words forced Grace to think. She might have been from the merchant class but she had to marry well like a proper lady, and she would undo everything her father had done to give her a good season if she was caught with this man, whom she knew nothing about. She rose from his lap and straightened her dress, her body still craving what she had just been introduced to.
Grace wanted to linger, but she had to do what was right even though she had spent most of her childhood doing the wrong things. “You should see a physician despite what I have done,” she said.
“I will consider it,” he muttered, gaining his feet and reaching for his shirt. “I thought you were leaving,” he added when she did not move.
“I am.” She turned and walked to the door. Before she opened it, she thought she could not leave without saying more, thus, she turned. “That was a pleasure.”
“Indeed,” he purred, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
Grace opened the door and walked out, wondering if she had made the right decision.
CHAPTERONE
Grace groaned and closed her eyes, cursing as the knock came. “Now, what does she want?” she muttered to herself.
“May I come in?” her older sister, Natalie, asked from the other side of the door.
