His eyes were bright in the fire glow, and a flush of color, no doubt from the drink, deepened the olive hue of his skin.
“No one wants to hear the real stories,” he told her as his eyes fixed hungrily on her lips. “They all relish the drama, the adventure, the tales where I make myself out to be—”
He stopped when she licked her lips. She hadn’t meant to do it, but the longing in his gaze made her breathless. Foolishly so.
“A scoundrel? A rogue? A rapscallion?” Tess offered, trying to distract him and her own ridiculous yearning for him to take a step closer.
He nodded. “They want that. They’re starving for it.” And then he did it. He took the step that brought him so close she felt the tickle of his breath on her skin, the heat of his body nearly pressed to hers. “And yet all I wanted tonight was your attention.”
“Why?”
“Oh Tess.” He reached up and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dancing over her skin, lingering at a spot along her neck that made her shiver. “Don’t you know?”
“No.” Heaven help her, her body listed toward his, and she couldn’t seem to stop it.
He dipped his head.
Mercy, he was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him.
But he didn’t. He hovered his mouth near a spot by her ear that he’d just stroked.
“You’re damned beautiful. Fierce and clever and—” His breath caught, and she heard him swallow hard. “And you want to see beyond the facade.”
Tess reached for him because it felt as if she’d fall into him if she didn’t. Just one hand on his chest. Her fingers curled around his lapel and she felt the strong, insistent thud of his heartbeat.
“Are you sure you want to see?” he asked, his voice raw and husky.
“Yes.” She turned her head, needing him to look into her eyes so he knew she was in earnest.
But then his mouth brushed hers, and she reached for him without hesitation, her palm at his nape, fingers sifting his dark hair. He knew just where to touch her—a hand at her hip, the other at her back—to fit her perfectly against the muscled heat of his body.
He kissed her tentatively, exploring. Asking rather than taking—so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. He tasted and teased as if there was no rush, no party to get back to, no one but her to give himself to.
At the squeak of hinges, they both froze. Dominic pivoted, but with an arm behind him, still holding her close so that her body was shielded by his.
“Forgive me, sir.” Tess recognized the voice of the elderly butler who’d admitted them earlier. “Miss Walcott asked me to find you, Mr. Prince.”
“I’ll return to the drawing room directly.” Dominic’s voice emerged in a forceful rasp.
Tess dared not move or breathe, even when she heard theman’s footsteps retreat. She had no doubt the watchful servant knew Dominic was not in the library alone.
Dominic released her slowly, letting one hand linger on her arm as if determined to keep her steady until she took a step away from him.
“Which of us should go back first?” he asked softly.
“You,” Tess told him immediately. “You’re the one they want.” She hadn’t meant to snap or be harsh. That kiss had shaken her, left her breathless and stunned, but it had been mutual. She would not deny that.
“And yet all I want is to stay here with you.” He leaned in and added, “That’s the truth.”
“If you don’t go, they’ll send a contingent to find you.” Tess could imagine the ladies would soon be queueing outside the library door now that the butler had found him.
“I’ll go.” He looked as if he wished to say more. Instead, he dipped his head and left her.
Flushed and tingling from his kiss, Tess hugged an arm around her middle and reached her other hand up to her mouth. Her body trembled at how good it felt to be in his arms—so warm, so tantalizing. She licked her lips to catch the trace of lingering brandy.
How had she given in so easily? She knew better.
But what terrified her most was how much she wanted to kiss him again.
