“A bully, you mean.”
“You must know that’s how it appears.”
“I know it appears that way to them. Does it to you also, Miss Gallant?”
At first glance it had. She had the distinct feeling, though, that bullies didn’t quote self-deprecating lines fromRichard IIIwith quite so much ease. “I don’t feel it is my place to say, my lord. I am an employee.”
The earl reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of one finger. She froze, trying to memorize the sensation. When she didn’t move, he straightened again and tucked a stray strand of her light hair behind one ear. The entire time his gaze held hers, as though he was watching, studying her reaction. She didn’t know what he saw; she felt like a moth drawn helplessly to a flame. Moving, speaking, breathing—everything became impossible. And then, cupping her cheeks in both hands, slowly he leaned forward and touched her lips with his.
Alexandra’s eyes closed. His soft, firm mouth skimmed and caressed and teased hers until she simply wanted to sink to the floor. For the first time since she had decided on spinsterhood, she didn’t feel like a spinster. She felt molten, on fire. She leaned into him, and with a quiet, low sound, he deepened the embrace of their mouths.
Even knowing she was in the presence of an expert lover didn’t change the heart-stopping thrill of being kissed. And she’dneverbeen kissed like this. She’d never dreamed such a kiss existed in anything but fairy tales. Unable to help herself, Alexandra kissed him back, awkwardly and inexpertly. Her lack of expertise didn’t seem to bother Kilcairn, though, as his hands slid down her shoulders to her waist and hips. Without any seeming effort at all, he lifted her onto his lap, never lessening his attentions to her mouth and lips.
Finally, when she felt ready to burst into flames, he pulled away. Dazed, Alexandra lifted her head. “Oh, my,” she breathed, her hands loose around his shoulders.
His eyes held hers, something seductive and secret in their depths. “That is something, I fear,” he whispered, “that Rose will never learn.”
“What?”
“How to make men desire her as I desire you.” He lowered his gaze to her lips, and then captured her mouth again in a rough, demanding kiss. She squirmed closer on his lap and tightened her embrace, not wanting to miss the least little breath of his attentions.
He couldn’t be as cynical as he claimed. Not if he could kiss like that. But Alexandra wasn’t foolish enough to believe that a lack of cynicism would keep him from rendering her naked and placing warm, slow kisses on her bare skin. The thought made her tremble with a deep, yearning ache that was more heated than fire. That was when she realized she’d best put a stop to this, right now.
“My lord,” she managed shakily, turning her face from his.
His lips traveled along the line of her jaw. “Yes?”
“You must stop!”
“What in God’s name for?”
The tip of his tongue caressed the base of her throat, and she gasped, her fingers digging helplessly into his shoulders. “I am attempting to teach propriety. This is certainly not the way to do it!”
“My cousin isn’t here.”
“But you are.” With effort she pushed away from him and stood. Slowly, reluctantly, his hands slipped away from her hips and her waist. She knew if he’d wanted to, he could have kept her imprisoned on his lap, clinging to him helplessly, and it seemed significant that he’d let her escape. She would sort out exactly what it meant later, when her mind regained the ability to function again. “I am a governess,” she stated, lifting a hand to fix her hair. “Not a mistress. And you, according to your own request, are one of my students.”
His jaw clenched, the earl looked at her for a long, dark moment. He gestured toward the door. “Go, then.”
Kilcairn’s voice sounded tight and strained, and Alexandra paused. “Are you well?”
“Absolutely not. Good night.”
“No? May I help?”
He scowled at her. “Yes, but you won’t.”
“I…” She’d learned enough interesting new things during that kiss to be able to deduce what he was talking about. “Oh.”
“Leave, Miss Gallant. Now.”
She hesitated, then nodded and pulled open the door. “Good night, Lord Kilcairn.”
“Perhaps you’ll dream of me, Alexandra. I’ll be dreaming of you, I think.”
Closing the door softly behind her, Alexandra hurried to her bedchamber. Once inside, though, she spent a good five minutes trying to decide whether to lock the door. Finally good sense got the better of her, and she slid the bolt home.
As she changed into her nightclothes, she kept finding herself immobile before the roaring fireplace, her fingers tracing her lips. He had wanted her, and it would have been frightfully easy to give in if only he would promise to keep kissing her like that. Dream of him indeed. She’d be lucky if she closed her eyes at all.
