As soon as he was out of sight, Tristan drew her inside the small room and closed the door. “You’re wearing your gloves,” she noted, looking at his hands.
He yanked them off and shoved them into a pocket. “No, I’m not.”
Closing the short distance between them, he nudged her back against the door and captured her mouth in a rough kiss. The electricity broke over them and she moaned, pulling his face down harder against her, trying to climb inside him.
His hands swept down her back and hips, closing around her bottom and tugging her against his body. She flinched. “Ouch.”
“Wh…Damnation.” He released her immediately, putting his palms against the door on either side of her shoulders. “Apologies.”
“What about Bradshaw?” she asked, biting his lower lip. “That man’s looking for him.”
“It’ll take a while. Shaw’s not here.”
Georgiana wanted to compliment him on his deviousness. With the small amount of time they were likely to have, however, that seemed less important than indulging in another hot, openmouthed kiss.
“I wish the damned door had a lock,” he muttered against her mouth, kissing her until she felt nearly faint with wanting him.
“We couldn’t, anyway.” Sliding her hands around his waist, beneath his jacket, she kneaded the hard muscles of his back. “Could we?”
With one last, lingering kiss he pulled away. “No, we couldn’t,” he murmured, his voice husky with want. “If I intended to beat out the competition by ruining you, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Georgiana leaned back against the door, trying to regain both her senses and her breath. “Then how do you intend to beat out the competition?”
He smiled, a slow, wicked curving of his lips that made her want to pounce on him all over again. “Persistence and patience,” he said, running his fingers along her cheek. “It’s not just your body I want, Georgiana. I want all of you.”
A few weeks ago she would have doubted his sincerity. Tonight, looking into his intelligent, hungry eyes, she believed him. And that frightened and excited her down to her toes.
The door rattled. Cursing, Tristan flung himself onto the carpeted floor and grabbed one knee in his hands. “Damnation, Georgie, I only asked for a kiss,” he snapped, then threw a glance at the footman as he stepped back into the room. “Did you find my brother?”
“N…no, my lord. I looked, but—”
“Never mind that. Help me up. Blasted flighty females.”
Flushing, the servant hurried forward and pulled Tristan to his feet.
Trying to keep her jaw from falling open, Georgiana could only watch as Tristan sent an additional glare at her, then limped over to retrieve her shawl. “I suppose you’ll want to return to your cousin now?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Y…yes. At once, if you please.”
The footman stifled an amused look at Dare’s back as, with elaborate caution, Tristan offered her his arm. She hesitated for effect, then took it.
As they made their way back into the main assembly rooms, Georgiana couldn’t help looking at him. Any rumors resulting from their little adventure would be exactly as he intended—he’d tried to snatch a kiss, and she’d kicked him.
She’d known from the ton’s lack of reaction to their first tryst that he’d done something to keep the gossips at bay. What she hadn’t realized until this moment was that he’d done so intentionally, and that he’d allowed it to sully his own reputation rather than hers.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking up at his face.
He met her gaze. “Don’t. When I lead you astray, I’m obligated to protect you from any gossip about it.”
She wasn’t certain how much leading he’d done this evening. “Even so, it was nice of you.”
“Then thank me by going walking with me in the morning.”
She wondered briefly whether she could keep her hands off him for that long. “All right.”
Chapter 17
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
