“It’s not as though the two of us have been caught in a scandalous embrace on some ballroom terrace,” she said. That, she believed, was how a lady was compromised. No, this wasdefinitelynot a ball, and she was not a miss on the marriage mart; she was a teacher. “No one need concern themselves over the two of us being accidentally locked together in a stairwell… Oh, drat.” The reminder had him squeezing his eyes together even as that most unattractive green pallor ebbed into his complexion.
Anxious to keep his panic away, she handed him another comfit. Rather than pop this one into his mouth, however, he dropped it in his pocket and reached out his hand.
She blinked at it and then realized he wanted her to distract him again by drawing her invisible lines. Collette wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and his head fell forward. A few more inches and he would be resting on her shoulder.
“Dash it all…” His voice came out tight, almost as though he was struggling to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For bringing…” She clamped her lips together and studied the thickness of his hair. And then, without thinking, moved her hands up and threaded her fingers through the strands, slowly massaging his scalp.
From the bottom to the top and then down again.
“Does this help?” she whispered, and he nodded.
Slow circles, moving from his forehead to the back of his neck.
He groaned.
That was a good sign, was it not?
Over his ears and then back into the thick softness of hair that was not really brown but not blond either. By now his forehead was, in fact, resting on her shoulder.
Roaring filled Collette’s ears, but she told herself this meant nothing. He was a duke. He was in distress. Furthermore, he’d used the door for this same purpose. Likely, in a moment or two, he would try to smash his brain into it.
All of which did nothing to calm her own heart, which was racing for no reason at all.
For no reason at all, that was, until he turned his head.
Was that his mouth pressed against her neck? And his hands only gripped her waist to balance himself, didn’t they?
Collette licked suddenly dry lips.
“Your Grace?” Her voice came out thready and weak. Good heavens, her nerves were rather unsteady as well, now.
His mouth dragged up her neck, around to her jaw. “Oh…” She exhaled a sigh of surprise because it felt so…
Incredible.
Her heartbeat, thundering in her ears, must be echoing loudly up and down the stairwell.
She lowered a hand to his shoulder. She should push him away. Even she knew this was improper.
Yes, she ought to push him away. And she would.
Just one more moment.
Because his shoulder felt thick and solid beneath her palm and his chest was a stone wall of intoxicating masculinity. How could something be terrifying and yet thrilling at the same time?
What was he doing?
He’d been panicking, hadn’t he?
His lips trailed over her chin, to the corner of her mouth, and she tilted her head back.
When Collette decided to teach, she’d told her sister she doubted she would ever know what it would be like to be kissed by a gentleman. Diana, however, had scoffed and insisted that of course she would.
And although Collette would normally resent admitting it—she exhaled a fluttery breath—it seemed that in this instance, her sister had been right.
Because this man was going to kiss her.
