“In that case, I’ll be counting the days until your arrival.” He raised his fingertips to lift her chin, applying a gentle pressure but giving her no choice but to meet his eyes.
Her heart jumped, and when he leaned forward, she gasped.
And apparently, he considered her parted lips to be an invitation.
Although the scent he carried on his clothing, hair, and skin was woodsy, his breath hinted at cloves and mint. Priscilla fought all her instincts.
His taste would consume hers. It would be masculine—foreign and yet oddly familiar.
Overwhelmed with longing, she sighed. She had gone six years without being kissed.
Six years!
She would have fisted her hands on the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer if she didn’t know Miss Primm and Chloe were just outside the door.
Instead, she turned her head just enough so that his kiss landed on her cheek, barely touching the corner of her mouth.
Giving her a hint of his taste.
“My lord?” she spoke the words for no reason whatsoever, fighting the warmth pulling her toward him.
“Emerson,” he corrected her.
“Emerson.”
“Sweet, sweet Allison.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ll be counting the days until I can kiss you properly.”
Allison!
Priscilla jerked out of his grasp, wringing her hands in her lap.
She could not allow him even a hint at such intimacies. She could not!
“Do not hold your breath,” she said. “We’ll arrive at our leisure.”
At this, his brows shot up. “If you haven’t arrived by Monday evening, I’ll come looking for you myself.”
Of course, he would.
Priscilla all but leaped off the sofa, smoothing her ridiculous skirts and forcing herself to breathe normally.
And by the time she turned back to face him, she knew what she must do.
“As I said.” She laughed. “We’ll arrive when we arrive.”
A knock on the wood provided less than two seconds warning before Miss Primm and Chloe entered the parlor.
“It is settled then?” Primm raised her brows.
Miss Primm and Lord Hardwood spent the second half of his visit finalizing arrangements. He would provide the necessary directions to Miss Primm’s driver, Coachman John, and at the same time promised all discretion and honor throughout their visit.
And after he finally took his leave, Priscilla collapsed back onto the sofa.
She couldn’t do this!
Dear God. She’d very nearly allowed him to kiss her. She had ached for it!
Even with him gone, her heart raced. This was not good.
