He let her take a step back. “I was angry at you.”
“And that’s your response? Remind me to anger you more often.”
All of a sudden, he felt self-conscious. He tugged on his hair. “I’m sorry—”
Susanna held up a hand. “No, don’t ruin it by apologizing.”
He shut his mouth not sure what the hell to do now. Regret already settled into his gut. One doesn’t kiss a lady unless he has honorable intentions. Losing control and indulging lustful impulses were for mistresses not for earls’ daughters. He studied her expression, she didn’t appear appalled or insulted by his behavior, in fact, Susanna looked to be assessing him as closely as he was her. That look of hers always meant trouble.
“This doesn’t change anything. I’m not going home yet.”
He opened his mouth to retort but again she stilled his response with a hand in the air.
“Were you trying to soften me up to changing my mind by kissing me?” she asked.
“No!” He shook his head. “No.”
“In that case I would like to extend the offer to you again to come along to Weymouth Bay and help me find James Marlow. Come on, Miles, where is your sense of adventure? Do you really want to spend your holiday sitting around your brother’s house with a baby on your knee? Plus, we could do some more kissing if you like.”
He crossed his arms across his chest. “Are you trying to seduce me into acquiescence?” He tried not to let his amusement show through. Did she really think she could barter a few kisses for his sanity?
“Certainly not!” She mirrored his pose. “Perhaps a little. They were very nice kisses.”
“There is that word again, nice. I must be out of practice.”
Susanna giggled. “So, are you going to come along and protect me with your big strong manliness or not?”
This time he did laugh, the cheeky brat. “Yes, fine, I will come along. But no more kissing. It’s not proper. I’m here to protect your reputation not wreck it.”
Her lips pursed into a moue. “May I remind you that you are the one who started the kissing?”
She was right of course. He had kissed her, and he wanted to again. But he definitely shouldn’t, they were traveling together and that was bad enough. He needed to put his self-control back into place, dammit. He schooled his features to be stern and forbidding.
Susanna shrugged. “It’s your loss. Now help me up.” She clicked softly at her horse and it crossed to her.
Miles placed his hands on her waist and lifted her into the saddle. Susanna hooked her leg and then looked down at him.
“You’re firm on the no kissing?”
He swept his gaze across the tight-fitting jacket that cupped her pert breasts, down past the flare of her hip to the pale skin of her ankle which once again peeked out. Unable to resist, he ran a gloved finger across the exposed strip, wondering if the skin was as soft as it looked. Susanna shifted her skirts to fall into place properly over her legs. She had no idea that his thoughts took him far past kissing her mouth, instead he was imagining running his lips over every inch of her body, exploring every curve and valley with his tongue.
He cleared his throat. “No kissing.”
Susanna shrugged and directed her attention to her horse. They turned and headed back toward the caravan. Miles mounted his horse and followed. Her calm demeanor raised his suspicions. He had a bad feeling he had recklessly opened up a door today and he was not prepared for what lay beyond.
Chapter Nineteen
Susanna stared intentlyat her book but she hadn’t read a word in the last hour. She replayed their kiss over and over in her mind. Where had Miles been hiding all that passion? He’d said he kissed her because he was angry. What did that even mean? Had his anger somehow snapped the iron control he had over his emotions? She chewed her bottom lip and turned a page so the others in the carriage would think she was reading.
Hawksridge was undeniably handsome, but never rumored to be involved with any roguish behavior, like kissing ladies in the middle of arguments. She knew from the times they played chess or partnered in cards that he was clever and competitive. It’s not that he never laughed or had fun, but rather that he was always too busy to be bothered. She thought about his lists and his neatly organized study and how his structured life was a reflection of his prized control. But that kiss had been about losing control. Strong arms had caged her against his hard body and his mouth had been hot and demanding. A shiver raced down her spine.
His kiss had been no gentle exploration, it had been possession. She hadn’t been able to do anything but respond. A fire of emotions had erupted in her chest with the first brush of his lips. She had been waiting a long time for someone to make her feel the way his kiss had. To feel something more than mild interest. All of Stuart’s attention had been pleasant and their lovemaking less than exciting. But Hawksridge’s kiss had washed over her, arousing and overwhelming. She craved more. Susanna snapped her book shut. She wanted Hawksridge. He had been right in front of her all this time. His perfectly polished veneer covering hidden depths.
“All done with your book?” Clara asked.
Susanna shook her head and clutched her book to her chest “No, just tired of it, I guess. Do you think we are almost there?”
“Hard to tell. Everything out there looks the same to me,” Clara replied.
