Despite his age.
Despite his title
Despite his lofty confidence and likely immeasurable stores of experience.
Diana was torn between cataloging every sensation of this kiss—her very first—so that she could remember it long into the future and…
Allowing those sensations to curl her toes.
His tongue teased beyond her teeth to wrestle with hers and…
The toe-curling won.
Delicious.
His kiss was sweet and buttery and spicy and introduced her to a new flavor that she never knew she’d craved.
He had one hand on her elbow and his other at the back of her neck. Other than the kiss itself, no other parts of their bodies were touching.
Would he catch her if her knees gave out now? Her head felt heavy and light at the same time, and before she swooned at his feet, Diana clutched the lapels of his jacket.
She gasped when he broke the kiss and stepped away. “No,” she whispered.
Stunned, Diana dropped her hands and, for a half a second, watched his flickering expressions as he seemed to experience a series of emotions: desire, affection, regret, and then—nothing.
“My apologies.” Was he glancing around to avoid looking in her eyes, or was he glancing around to assure himself that no one had witnessed them kissing?
Diana hugged her arms in front of her. “Why?”
He was uncomfortable. She could feel it, and yet he didn’t appear flustered in the slightest.
“You are a lovely young woman, and I find myself attracted to you. I should not—”
“It was a rather delightful first kiss,” Diana said. “If I had not welcomed it, I would not have kissed you back.”
“But I cannot—”
“I have no expectations of you. This didn’t happen, remember? This isn’t real,” she reminded him.
His gaze focused on her once again, and Diana clenched her fists together to keep herself from reaching up to smooth away a wrinkle that had appeared between his eyes.
His chest rose and then fell. “I will ensure that you find a proper husband.”
Why didn’t landing a proper husband seem nearly as important as it had two days ago?
As it had two minutes ago?
“If I don’t marry, I can always pursue my other interest.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?”
“I can become a dancer.” She shrugged. “Le Théâtre du Ballet Saint-Martin has posted that they are hiring.”
His eyes widened in what Diana could only guess was horror. “That, I can assure you, will not be necessary.” And then he covered his mouth. “Or tolerated.”
“What would be so terrible about that?” She knew, but she couldn’t stop herself from goading him.
He had just kissed her quite thoroughly and was once again his ridiculously respectable self.
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Ah, but my lord, you mustn’t forget.” She narrowed her eyes up at him. “Neither am I.”
