“How long?” He slid the tip of his thumb along her mouth. “Since you’ve been loved?” It was an improper question, but this entire afternoon was nothing if not improper.
Simon watched her throat move. “Years,” she said. “Many years. Nearly a decade.”
She was as affected by his nearness as he was by hers. Possibly more. The rapid rise and fall of her bosom and the warmth spreading up her neck gave her feelings away.
“And yet you believe in magic,” he accused.
“For others… not necessarily for myself.”
This close, Simon noticed tiny freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. “But you want to?”
“Perhaps.”
Before, he never—not in a million years—would have considered a fling of this sort with a woman under the protection of one of his closest friends. But the circumstances surrounding Miss Faraday were dangerously tempting.
She had not agreed to come out with him today because he was Blackheart. She was attracted to him even though she believed him a manservant. For that reason, she would expect nothing more than physical pleasure.
And perhaps a little magic.
No one could know—not even those closest to either of them.
Especially not those closest to them. An affair between a lady and a servant was beyond scandalous. If it got out, Greystone would be right to demand Simon meet him on the field of honor.
Or marry her.
All of those factors together were daunting, but also powerful, and very, very enticing.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.
She did not draw back, no, she dipped her chin and then parted her lips.
Simon closed the few inches that remained between them and captured her mouth with his. The night before, her kiss had been minty, clean, and her lips had been cool to the touch.
Presently, they tasted warm and earthy, much like the ale they’d been drinking. Her hands came up to clutch his waistcoat and she tugged him closer.
This woman was starving for intimacy—not so she could land a husband, or even because she expected anything else in the future. But because she wanted to give herself a second chance.
And she wanted to take that chance with him.
Violet felt heavy and light at the same time. And rather than feel guilty over her actions, she felt energized and alive.
How long had it been since she’d thrown caution to the wind? Had she ever?
Because she liked it. She liked throwing caution like this.
He was kissing her. And there could be more between them. He brought me to an inn!
He’d not answered her question about bringing other women here. Was she just one of many for him?
She pushed such thoughts aside.
Because right now, he was kissing her—her—Violet Faraday. And this kiss was reminding her of all the reasons she’d come with him today in the first place.
She was enjoying every minute of this outing.
When had she become so infatuated with her cousin’s incorrigible and all-too-arrogant butler?
She opened her mouth with a sigh, inviting his tongue to mingle with hers. So exciting but also familiar—like coming home. Inhaling, she fully appreciated how very different he was from her—musky, spicy, very clean but also a hint that reminded her of leather and horses.
