His gaze fixed on her ridiculously rosy lips, even as his grip on her upper arms relaxed. He ought to release her instantly. Instead, almost of their own accord, his thumbs caressed her warm, bare skin below her silly half sleeves, which he could push down with a puff of breath. Goosebumps rose under his fingers.
“You’re cold,” he said, wondering at the husky tone of his voice. He cleared his throat.
“No,” she replied, her gaze not wavering from his. “I mean, I was previously a little chilled, which is why I am here. I am looking for my wrap. Not inyourroom obviously. I was going to my own. I confess I took the same path as you, and then, as I stepped into the hallway, I saw this door swing shut.”
“I see.” He was still stroking her skin. And while he knew he should unhand her, the moment was so surreal and unexpected that Vincent held on. “There are two other guests in the hallway.”
“Then I suppose I must stay a little longer,” she said.
Vincent marveled at the appearance of her tongue, darting across her lower lip. A fascinating little movement that indicated she was not quite at ease.
It was his fault. He was behaving badly. Finally, he dropped his hands from her, despite the impulse to draw her closer and kiss her.
He attributed his errant inclination to being alone with one of the prettiest females he’d ever seen. One without an ounce of self-preservation, it seemed.
She didn’t step back, even with nothing keeping her close.
“Do you know something, Lord Handsome ... I mean, Lord Hewitt?” Her cheeks pinkened at the adorable slip of the tongue. “I thought you might be about to kiss me.”
His own cheeks were undoubtedly taking on a ruddy hue as she read his thoughts. She wasn’t quite so adorable, gazing up at him, her teeth once more tugging on her own lower lip. More like a hunter, with him the unsuspecting prey.
“Let me look again.” Vincent turned away from her and peered out the door once more. The corridor was thankfully empty. “We are in luck,” he said before feeling her bare, ungloved hand on his arm, searing him through his shirt sleeve.
“Are we? Let me see?”
He barely had the chance to move sideways when she pushed around him and looked out. Her back was practically pressed to his front, and her fragrant hair was under his nose. He sniffed in the heady aroma of roses and something else. Carnations perhaps?
Lady Brilliance giggled. “Are you smelling my hair?” She turned in the space between them, her breasts brushing his arm, and his restraint snapped. With his hands resting on either side of her head, he leaned in, making the door click closed once again.
With her back flat against the door, she looked up. “Why, youaregoing to kiss me! How exciting!” Then she shut her eyes and waited.
Although the moment struck him as funny, it didn’t diminish his desire one whit. While trying to remain somewhat of a gentleman and not touch her body with any part of his, Vincent claimed her mouth. His lips slanted across hers, and he felt her gasp in a quick, hot breath.
In the next moment, her arms worked between them until she was doing what he would not allow himself — she was tracing her fingers up his chest until they finally rested at the back of his neck.
“Mmm,”she hummed, and the sound stroked the length of him.
The kiss, itself, was slow, but the surge of longing raced through his body like a spark of fire.
Sweet Bedlam!She was lucky he truly was a gentleman in manner and not in name only. If not, he would have her on her back upon his bed in seconds, with her décolletage drawn down to expose her breasts and her satin skirts tossed up half a minute after.
Still, he didn’t raise his mouth from hers. Not yet. Not before he allowed them another few moments of bliss while he traced his tongue across her lips. She parted them.
He had to accept the invitation.It would be rude not to!
Sliding his tongue along hers, soon he was gently sucking it. Finally, he felt her hands pressing gently against his shoulders. She had come to her senses. She ought to slap him at the veryleast, denounce him to his own cousin as a rogue at the worst — and get him sent home on the first night.
Suddenly, he hoped she didn’t.
Looking down at her, half expecting to see ire and outrage, instead, he saw a tentative smile.
“You tasted of sweet orange. You ate my gift.”
“Yourgift?” he echoed. “I thought it from Lady Twitchard.”
She shrugged. “That was a perfectly splendid kiss. Shall we do it again?”
Now that some modicum of sanity had returned while they conversed, Vincent was determined to get her on her way to safety.
