“You know it’s the clothes.”
“Am I wearing too many? I can take off my buckskins. Or rather, Ican’ttake them off without the aid of a valet, so if you would slide your hands into the waistband and give them a little tug…”
“I will brain you with this sword and knock you unconscious.”
“I hope you don’t.” His eyes held hers. “Because then how will I kiss you?”
“Who says you’re going to kiss me?”
“Onlyyoucan say.” His smoky gaze lowered to her mouth, then lifted back to her eyes. “May I?”
“Just one,” she allowed. “Make it quick.”
He slanted his head down until his parted lips just barely grazed hers, then pulled back a fraction of an inch and waited.
“That was no kiss,” she whispered. “Do it properly.”
“As you command.” This time, his mouth covered hers with hunger, plundering, claiming, demanding she do the same.
She swung her sword atop the closest flat surface, knocking over the carefully piled stack of books. Neither of them paid any attention.
Now both of her hands were free to roam over his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders. Every inch of him was hard and hot and incredibly arousing. She could only imagine what it would feel like to climb atop his entirely naked body and—
She pulled her mouth from his with a gasp. “That’s enough. Goodbye.”
“Did I fail to kiss you properly?”
Tooproperly. Her entire body was covered in gooseflesh in eager anticipation of what it would feel like to have his mouth explore all the rest of her.
“I thought I wanted… an affaire,” she told him. “Initially. Now I’m not sure.”
His heart skipped beneath her palm. “Because of what happened?”
“Because of what’s going to happen next. If you would stop distracting me, I could follow the clues to the will, and then we’ll both go home. After which we’ll never see each other again.”
“That’s a likely outcome,” he agreed, “but not the only possibility. We both live in London—”
“You never leave your house,” she reminded him. “And I’m rarely in mine, because I’m always off on missions like this one.”
His chest muscles twitched beneath her palms. “Exactly like this one?”
“Usually with ninety percent less nudity,” she admitted. “And considerably fewer kisses.”
“Do you object to more kisses? With me?”
“I object…”To being hurt. To missing you. To letting myself be vulnerable. Never show weakness. “Let’s not make promises, shall we? What happens, happens.”
He gazed at her in silence for a long moment, then took a half step back.
Her hands fell away from his chest. She missed him immediately.
“I did make one promise I’d like to keep.” He gave a crooked smile. “And I swear it doesn’t involve nudity or kisses.”
Worst promise ever.
“What is it?” she asked suspiciously.
“The keepsakes for your family. There’s just one left.”
