‘Do you think she’s trying to give us some privacy?’ He enjoyed the feeling of Miss Simmons’s hand in his, holding onto her even when she was safely down the carriage steps.
‘Why would she want that?’ Miss Simmons was nervous. She wouldn’t hold his gaze.
Killian pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow and turned toward the house. ‘Perhaps she means to encourage our little charade.’
‘Philippa is not in the habit of encouraging farce. Unless it serves her purpose. And this does not, I assure you.’ Her words were clipped as she tried to pull her hand free. ‘I can walk myself to the steps, Your Grace.’
He put his gloved hand over hers, halting her escape. ‘What kind of gentleman would I be to abandon you on the street?’
‘The same kind who pins a lady to the floor, blackmails her, accuses her of being a lightskirt. Ringing any bells, Your Grace?’ Her cheeks were flushed, and she swallowed.
He was ashamed of calling her a lightskirt, but nothing else. Killian remembered the first night they met with startling clarity. The feel of her small, lithe body beneath his. The thrill of confrontation sweetened by the heat of attraction. His body hardened and he cursed his lack of self-control. ‘The last was a terriblebreach of etiquette on my part. As for the rest, you can hardly blame me for acting like a duke. And you are no better, madame. The night we met, you were snooping around with a dagger in your pocket.’
‘One I would very much like returned to me.’
Killian widened his eyes in mock innocence. ‘And if I had it, you would see its return immediately. I imagine some lucky footman possesses it now. But allow me to redeem myself by escorting you to the door and showing you what a gentleman I can be.’ He pulled her close enough to feel the swish of her skirts as they walked up the path.
Lady Philippa’s house was impressive, boasting no less than six Grecian columns on either side of the stairs leading to the entrance. A grand oak door, wide enough for three men to pass through at once, stood open. The butler must have followed Lady Philippa into the house, for the entryway was empty.
Miss Simmons paused on the last step. He was one behind her. When she turned to face him, they stood almost eye-level. ‘Do you recall our agreement? You who never forgets anything.’
The chill evening air embraced him as rain and coal smoke mingled with Miss Simmons’s citrus and cream. London’s weather was as inconstant as fate. Even in the heart of summer, it could turn frigid in a moment’s notice. ‘You refer to limiting our flirtations to the public arena. Yes, I remember.’
‘Perhaps I might amend that arrangement.’ She still wouldn’t look in his eyes. Her gaze was firmly fixed over his left shoulder.
Killian leaned closer. He let his hand rest on her hip, curling his fingers around the curve of her waist. It was the same place he held her during their dance but standing this close on the front steps of her house, the position felt scandalously intimate.
‘I’ve always considered myself open-minded to amending agreements when the reasoning is sound. What exactly were youthinking?’ He didn’t dare move for fear of unravelling the gossamer threads holding this moment together.
Her breath hitched and she bit her lip. Killian’s entire body tightened. He hadn’t wanted a woman so painfully since, well, maybe ever.
‘I have no illusions of marriage. It is not my goal, nor my desire to be under the rule of a man.’
Killian cupped her cheek with his free hand and turned her head, forcing her gaze to meet his. He had no wish to marry Miss Simmons either, but something in him rejected the idea of a lovely woman being consigned to the lonely life of a spinster. ‘Your view of marriage seems rather dim.’
‘After your description of matrimony, I hazard our views on the topic align. For men like you, marriage is a duty you cannot shirk. For women like me, marriage is a yoke I strive to evade.’ She tipped her chin, freeing herself from his grasp.
Killian blinked. He never considered how a woman might feel about marriage. He was rather more concerned with his own opinions on the subject. But now, he was forced to look at the establishment through a different lens. Her lens. For a fiercely independent woman like Miss Simmons, it was easy to see how the bonds of marriage would bring constraint rather than comfort.
Miss Simmons smiled at him. ‘You look truly flummoxed. Have you never considered that a woman might not desire marriage?’
‘I suppose I never gave it much thought. Marriage provides women with security and protection.’
‘I don’t need a man’s security or protection. I provide that for myself.’
Killian frowned. His gaze caught on her scar, and he resisted the urge to press his lips against her cheek and test the contrast oftextures. ‘There are quite a few men who value the independence of being a bachelor. I suppose a woman could feel the same.’ After consideration, there were far more reasons for a woman to wish for independence than a man. Very few women were ever granted the kind of freedom he had grown to expect. Lady Winterbourne, and by extension, Miss Simmons, were two of the rare ladies in his acquaintance who need not bow to the whim of a husband or father. It made sense she wouldn’t want to give up that autonomy.
‘Yes, it’s truly remarkable how a woman can feel things just like a man, think as logically, fight as fiercely. Almost as if we were essentially the same.’ Her smile faltered. ‘I believe a woman’s desires can also be of equal measure.’
Killian tightened his fingers around her waist. Their conversation had momentarily engaged his mind and distracted his body. But with one word from Miss Simmons, his senses realigned.Desires.Such a simple combination of vowels and consonants with endless possibilities.
‘You have my undivided attention, Miss Simmons.’
‘Perhaps, under the circumstances, you could call me Hannah.’
Something deep within Killian wanted to howl in triumph that she granted him such a familiarity. He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing her cheek as he whispered in her ear. ‘Then, you have my undivided attention, Hannah.’ Her name felt soft and sensuous in his mouth.
She pushed him back, and he reluctantly retreated. ‘I would control the pace. And the, er, depths.’
