After a second, she shivered herself free of the trance, her heart still pounding in her chest like a prisoner.
“All right,” she said, her voice more composed than she had spoken before. “Demonstrate it properly.”
Norman arched an eyebrow. “Oh? You are suddenly interested in following rules?”
She snorted. “I have decided that, perhaps, I should learn.”
His lips curled ever so slightly. “Very well.”
He stepped past her, placing her hands on the mallet. She tensed. Not with uncertainty—but with the uncontainable warmth of his sturdy body against her back.
His voice had deepened now, a low rumble against her ear. “Like this.”
His fingers adjusted her grip, keeping hold as he showed her.
Kitty swallowed hard. If he noticed how she responded, he said nothing about it. But he didn’t move away either.
She cleared her throat. “This does feel rather intimate.”
He exhaled a soft, almost laughing breath. “You’re really that clueless?”
Kitty’s head turned far enough to catch his eyes. “You are the first man I have ever wanted to push away and pull closer at the same time,” she said. “And that confuses me horribly.”
Darkness and a feral glint flashed through his face. His fingers dug deeper into her hands.
“Remarkable,” he murmured, his voice was too calm, like the still surface of a lake hiding dangerous currents. “You grow quiet when touched, Miss McGowan.”
Kitty’s breath caught. The accusation—for that’s what it was—hung between them like a challenge.
“I should not,” he whispered, but the sound was insincere.
Her own breathing was unsteady. “Then don’t.”
His gaze dropped to her lips. Just as he bent toward her?—
She met him halfway.
There was no hesitation this time, no breath caught in their throats, only the startling inevitability of contact. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that was rougher than the first—hungrier, like a dam had broken somewhere deep inside him. Kitty inhaledsharply, the taste of him flooding her senses, the heat of his body closing in like a storm she no longer wanted to outrun.
His hand released hers only to cup the side of her face, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss. Her fingers fisted in the fabric of his waistcoat, helpless against the shiver that coursed down her spine. He growled softly against her mouth, the sound vibrating through her bones and unraveling her composure completely.
A voice shouted in the distance.
“Kitty?”
They sprang apart from each other, caught off guard. Norman straightened his back immediately, his jaw working.
Kitty closed her eyes and bit off an oath. Of all the horrid?—
“Kitty?” The voice returned—Cynthia’s—growing near.
Norman released a quick breath and straightened up, smoothing himself out. “We should go.”
They walked back to the rest of the group, Kitty trailing a couple steps behind him.
As they rejoined the party, Kitty’s pulse still hammered against her stays like a caged bird. She forced her breathing to steady,her face to smooth into perfect composure—the very picture of a disinterested society miss. Yet every nerve remained acutely aware of Norman’s presence beside her, his sleeve brushing her elbow as they walked, the heat of him radiating through their clothes like a banked fire.
Norman, on his part, had resumed his usual calm exterior, save for the lingering warmth in his eyes when their eyes met. Cynthia was already watching them as they approached, her face impassive save for the strain around her mouth.
