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“Lost your way?”

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, then his lips were on hers.

It started as a gentle kiss, a firm press of his lips against hers, but when she did not immediately jump back, Rex’s own desires pushed him onward. His hands found her hips, holding her in place and pulling her lower body against his as his cock stirred. Perhaps Miss Wilson had been hampered by her stuffy cousin’s expectations and overshadowed by Arabella’s exuberant confidence in the ballroom, but out here in the darkness of the garden, she was revealing an adventurous and far more interesting side than he would have ever guessed.

Running his tongue along the seam of her lips, he was gratified when she opened on a gasp. He ruthlessly deepened the kiss, his hands sliding to her back to cradle her against him. She met his tongue with her own, uncertainly at first, then with growing confidence, stirring his passions. Satisfaction and interest welled.

Well, now. Perhaps tonight was not a total loss.

Mary

Her body was on fire.

The conflagration had started in her lips and traveled down between her legs, the tingling sensation amplifying to a burning need deep in her core. The man’s tongue was in her mouth, his arms around her, holding her more tightly than any man had—and shelikedit.

He had looked at her as though he truly saw her as if she was the only woman in the world.

He was kissing her as though he wanted her.

He… he was an impossible rake, possibly connected to a traitor.

Mary pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, her hands pressing against his hard chest. He let her go, and she stumbled before he caught her again. Her breasts felt heavy and tingly, the area between her legs ached, and her lips were swollen from his kiss.

“I… I…” She could not think of what to say.

Tilting his head in the moonlight, clearly not as affected as she was, he reached out and tugged one of her curls.

“I could have sworn your hair was red last Season,” he murmured.

Her hair? He had just kissed her to distraction, and he wanted to comment on her blastedhair? Under other circumstances, she would have ripped him up one side and down the other, but she could notthinkwith her body still humming from his touch. She had to get away from him.

“I… excuse me.” She pulled away from his grip and ran, feet flying back to the house, so overset, it was not until she heard laughter coming from an adjacent path she slowed her pace. It felt as if the whole world had shifted beneath her feet, but she could not reveal that. She could not draw notice to herself, especially not coming out of the dark garden path alone and clearly agitated. Peoplewouldtake note of her then, and assumptions would be made—especially if Hartford followed her out.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her hand over her heart, willing it to calm. The tingling, itching sensation crawling along her skin diminished, as did the ache in her lower body, but there was nothing she could do about the way her lips still prickled.

Glancing over her shoulder, not seeing him behind her, she sighed with relief. He must still be back on the pathways, maybe even waiting for her to leave first. The man might be a rake, but he was a very considerate rogue from everything she had observed.

He knew my hair color. He remembered me.

That might be the most disquieting revelation of all. No one really remembered Mary from last Season, not even gentlemen she had been introduced to. Other than her friends and family, no one had given her hair a second glance.

Hehad.

Giving herself a little shake, Mary tried to pull herself together. There would be time enough to dwell on what that meant later.

Assuming her usual demeanor, she quietly stepped out of the shadows, gliding back to the patio into the ballroom. No one gave her a second glance, and she had never felt more relieved to be invisible. She was still frazzled inside, though she was determined not to show it.

Skirting the edges of the ballroom, she headed to where she had last seen her friends, hoping Josie and Lily were still there. Relief suffused her when she recognized Josie’s laughter upon approach.

Unfortunately, the ring of gentlemen around Josie and Lily was quite closely packed. Pressing her lips together, Mary found the shortest of their suitors and went up on her tiptoes, waving her fan over his shoulder. It took two tries before Lily spotted her and turned to the Duchess of Richmond, who was at her shoulder, watching over the proceedings.

A moment later, the wall of shoulders parted.

“There you are,” Josie said, smiling widely. “We have been waiting all evening for you to catch up to us. Where have you been?”

Mary’s lips tingled again as if remembering Hartford’s kiss, and she blushed.

“Never mind that. I need to talk to you.” She kept her voice low and urgent.

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