Amusement glinted in his eyes. “But surely you wouldn’t want to change your own linens or build your own fire if you didn’t have to. And by the way, thank you for not telling my mother what was really going on.”
“There was no point.” She smirked at him. “Besides, I suspect she will get the truth out of Kitty before my cousin’s head even hits the pillow. Kitty is the worst liar I know.”
“I suppose that speaks well of her character.”
“It does. Kitty also has the bestcharacterof anyone I know.”
He searched her face. “Better than you?”
“Oh, yes. I’m much too cynical,” she said lightly. “While Kitty thinks well of everybody until they prove themselves to be bad, I think well of nobody until they prove themselves to be good. It’s my greatest fault.”
“I knew it!” he said, startling her.
“That it’s my greatest fault?”
“That you were the one who actuallywroteall those letters to Douglas.”
Oh, no. She scrambled to formulate an answer. “I-I have no idea what you mean.” She stifled a groan. What a brilliant response. She would have to do better thanthat.
“Don’t be coy,” he said. “We both know your cousin could never manage such deft prose.”
She wished she could revel in the compliment, but she still hoped to keep her promise to Kitty. “Why would you assume that?”
“Because in one of your missives to Douglas you used the same line about how you—or rather, you pretending to be Kitty—thought well of everybody until they proved themselves to be bad, et cetera, et cetera.”
Oh, dear. He remembered that? She didn’t know whether to be alarmed or flattered. “I was merely recalling what Kitty originally wrote.”
“I doubt that. Between the two of you, you’re the more clever by far. I daresay Kitty would never come up with such a bon mot, much less write it.”
A pox on him. Why must he be so observant? Kitty was going to beterriblyhurt that Cass hadn’t kept their secret well enough to fool him. “How can you know that about my cousin? You just met her. You just metme, for that matter.”
“True, but I’ve seen enough to notice the differences between you. So why don’t you admit it? Kitty’s letters to Douglas were really your words. Your tales. Your witticisms and observations.” He loomed over her now, his face darkening. “And all the years I was imagining Douglas’s sister, Kitty, as being so sharp and interesting, it was reallyyouI was thinking of.”
She swallowed hard. He sounded angry, though she couldn’t think why he would be. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! Until I met you, I had no interest in Miss Isles . . . only in Miss Nickman, the lady who wrote fascinating letters. And now you tell me that the woman who intrigued me wasyou?”
His words made her heart clamor in her chest, which was pure madness. “I . . . The writer of the letters intrigues you?”
“Can you really be that oblivious?” He caught her chin in his hand. “Of course she does. And now I know why.”
“Why?”
His eyes shone, even in the dim light of the hallway. He kissed her then, not as he had under the mistletoe, but as she’d always imagined a husband kissing her . . . with a warmth that enveloped her and made her want more.
When he broke it off, his hungry expression made her shiver deliciously.
“That’s why,” he bit out. “Because of this . . . thisattractionbetween us.”
He kissed her again, hot and hard, and she discovered there was so much more to kissing than she’deverimagined. His mouth not only covered hers but parted her lips so he could slip his tongue inside.
Oh. Good. Lord. The feeling was beyondanything. Especially when he began to court her mouth with his tongue, sliding it in and out in silken strokes that made desire pool in her belly.
Eager for more, she looped her arms about his neck and pressed into him. He took that for what it truly was, an invitation to insanity, and pushed her against the door so he could kiss her with abject abandon, his hands roaming the sides of her and his body flush against hers as if he wished to absorb her into him.
She understood, since she wished the same. No kisses she’d ever had were so all-consuming—the few pecks on her lips by suitors dulled in comparison. He managed to convey such exquisite intensity that it made her ache and want and need anything he would give her.Everythinghe would give her.
All too soon he dragged his mouth from hers to stare down into her eyes. “Admit it, you wrote those letters. I already know the answer, but I want to hear you say it.”
