“Am I?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked, blinking at him.
He was almost tempted to continue to tease her, to see what she would say. She amused him, and he hadn’t expected that.
“A kiss? Is that all you want?”
Without giving her a chance to answer, he reached over and grabbed her skirt, pulling her toward him until she tumbled into his lap. Her hands fluttered in the air for a moment until his arms locked around her waist.
“In what way am I different?”
She was evidently not prepared to answer that question because she simply stared at him.
He tipped her head back, his attention on her face, a face even then coloring under his inspection. He lowered his head.
“I’m a Virginian,” he said. “You can’t utter a dare to a Virginian and expect him to ignore it.”
Her eyes widened.
Amused, he placed his hand over her eyes.
“You’re supposed to be overcome by passion,” he said, bending to kiss her lightly. “Or at the very least, overwhelmed by romance.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt romance,” she said against his lips. “Or passion.”
Now,thatwas a challenge.
He removed his hand and her eyes popped open. Evidently, their first kiss hadn’t impressed her. He lowered his head again, his mouth gently resting over hers.
His tongue traced her bottom lip, coaxed her mouth to open, then thrust inside. She made a sound in the back of her throat. Protest or appreciation? At the moment, he neither knew nor cared.
Kissing Veronica was a surprise. She was trembling in his arms. One of his hands reached around to smooth over her back. The other slid to her bodice, a thumb reaching up to rest just below her breasts.
When his hand moved, she gasped, such a delicate protest he wasn’t certain if she was offended or simply surprised. He tested the thought by cupping a breast.
She abruptly drew back, her face crimson.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” she said.
“You haven’t any experience, have you?”
She stared at him. “Any experience? Of course I haven’t,” she said, sounding shocked. “I think I know how it’s done well enough. We had cats and horses. They’re not altogether shy about mating.”
He wanted to smile but knew if he did, she might interpret his emotion incorrectly. He wasn’t feeling humor as much as he was an unexpected tenderness.
His celibacy was suddenly useless and unnecessary. He wanted his wife, his unexpected Scots wife, who was all innocence and ignorance, who spoke of being fey, and who managed to startle him with her directness.
She was like the wind, as changeable as the flow of air itself.
He should stand, excuse himself, and be about his work. Instead, he lowered his head to kiss her again.
“Proper behavior, Veronica, is what separates the upper classes from those who would ape their betters.” Aunt Lilly’s dictum. “You know nothing of proper society, Veronica.” That comment from each of her cousins in turn.
“I don’t think it’s proper to be kissing in the parlor,” she said, pulling back from their last kiss.
From the smile on Montgomery’s face, she’d obviously amused him. She didn’t have time to think about it because he leaned down and kissed her again.
He tilted his head a little, and the kiss became something different. She felt as if the top of her head were spinning. His breath entered her mouth, and it was the most intimate act she’d ever experienced with another human being.
