Page 20 of First Scandal


Font Size:

“Can I tell you something true?” he asked.

“Please.”

“I’ve thought about kissing you approximately thirty-seven times since we met.”

Her eyes widened. “Thirty-seven?”

“At minimum. Possibly more. I lost count somewhere around the pea conversation.”

A startled laugh escaped her. “That’s very specific.”

“I’m good with numbers. It’s the Latin tutor in me.”

“What else did the Latin tutor in you notice?”

“That you bite your lower lip when you’re nervous. That you have three freckles on your left cheek. That when you really smile—not the feigned widow smile, the real one—you have a dimple.” His voice dropped. “That I want very badly to be the person who makes you smile like that.”

She swayed slightly toward him. “Henry?—”

“Tell me to leave.” His hands flexed at his sides. “Tell me this is too fast. Tell me I’m being presumptuous. Tell me anything except?—”

“I’ve thought about it too, but I just don’t know how…”

His breath stopped. “About what?”

He swallowed since his lungs forgot to fill with air.

“Kissing you.” Her cheeks were flaming but she held his gaze. “Though I’ve never actually kissed anyone, so I don’t know if I’d be any good at it. I’d probably be terrible. I’m terrible at most things that require—coordination.”

“You weren’t terrible at dancing.”

“I stepped on your foot.”

“Once. I counted.”

She laughed. Shaky but real. “What if I’m awful at kissing? What if I?—”

“Then we’ll practice.” The words came out rough. “We’ll practice until you’re brilliant at it.”

“That’s very presumptuous.”

“It’s very honest because there are no steps or formula. We can do it any way we like. Just for our pleasure.”

They were so close now. Close enough that he could see her pulse racing at her throat. Could feel her breath against his skin.

“Margaret.” Her name was question and plea. “May I?—”

“Yes.”

The word barely escaped before his mouth found hers.

Soft. Warm. The barest brush of his lips against hers.

She froze.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

He didn’t push. Didn’t press. Just held his mouth there—gentle, patient—letting her choose.