Annabelle swallowed again and straightened her shoulders. But she did not step away from him. Her blasted, traitorous voice continued to shake. “Not unless…they were alone together.”
David looked pointedly around at the empty verandah before turning and setting his glass behind him on the balustrade. Then he faced her again.
Annabelle turned to him and tipped back her head to look directly up at David. Her heart was pounding like a hare’s in a trap. Why did she feel panicked and thrilled at the same time? She had to keep talking. Talking would solve this. Talking would keep this from turning into something it shouldn’t. “If a gentleman were interested in a kiss from a lady, he should most definitelyaskfirst,” she said in a rush, looking away. Her body was hot and cold all over and, for the second time in her life—both, coincidentally, in David’s company—she felt faint. No. This wasn’t truly happening. David wasn’t thinking of…kissing her. Was he? That would be madness. She’d lost her mind. That’s all. Her mind was gone.
She made the mistake of glancing over at him again. She shouldn’t have done that, because what she saw was David’s tongue flick out to dab at the corner of his mouth. All she could do was stare, her own mouth going conspicuously dry.
“Ask first?” David said, his fingertip tracing down the length of her gloved arm to linger at her wrist. “That sounds like something a fop would do.”
Annabelle shook her head, trying desperately to keep her voice from shaking more. “N…n…no. It’s only courteous. What if the lady doesn’t welcome your advances?”
What in God’s name was wrong with her? She’d never been this skittish around a man before. Through the years, she’d sent well over a score of them packing when they’d become overly familiar. What made this encounter with David any different?
“I would never force myself on a lady who didn’t welcome my advances.” His fingertip moved back and forth across her knuckles.
It was only her hand, herglovedhand, but somehow his touch was melting her. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. Her breath came in shallow pants. “Without asking her, how could you possibly know?” She wanted to sound confident and self-assured. Instead, her voice sounded frightened and squeaky.
Stop it, Annabelle. You’re making a fool of yourself.
David arched a brow at her. “I think I can tell if a lady would welcome my kiss.”
“That’s arrogant,” she insisted, lifting her chin in the hopes that the small action would restore her control of the situation. But she knew, had known from the moment she saw him on the verandah, perhaps from the moment he’d cut in on her dance with Lord Murdock so dauntlessly…the reason this was different from the other men who’d made unwanted advances was because this was David.
And his advances weren’t unwanted.
“Perhaps it is arrogant,” he replied, his voice slow and husky, “but there’s only one way to find out.” Clutching her wrist, he pulled her expertly into his arms and his lips came crushing down on hers.
Chapter Sixteen
Annabelleshouldpush David away. Sheshouldslap him. Sheshouldtell him he was not only arrogant, he was wrong. But the moment his hot mouth met hers, all thoughts flew from her head. When his lips pushed hers apart and his tongue entered her, she whimpered. No man had ever done anything so bold. And she’d never wanted it more.
In response, she pushed her arms up along his coat front and wrapped them tightly around his neck. Then she kissed him back with everything she was worth.
He pulled her closer. His hands settled on her sides at first, then one moved along the small of her back, making her a puddle, before the other cupped the back of her head, moving it so her mouth made better contact with his.
When his other hand moved slightly below the small of her back and pulled her firmly against his rock-hard body, Annabelle cried out. The sound was swallowed by his kiss.
She’d never felt anything like it. Most of the clumsy kisses she’d experienced before were wet, sloppy things that left her cold. This was nothing but heat. She didn’t know where to concentrate her pleasure, on his hand that cradled her head so tenderly, or the other hand at the small of her back driving her mad. Or the feel of her entire body plastered against his. Then there were her hands that had moved to his strong shoulders, while she breathed in the heady scent of him as his tongue owned hers.
They might have been kissing for seconds or hours. Annabelle was so disoriented that when David’s mouth left hers, she was nearly gasping for breath. Her nipples tingled and the intimate spot between her legs throbbed. The only thought in her head…it hadn’t been enough.
“Well?” he asked, stepping back, and straightening his jacket. He looked perfectly settled, but he was slightly bereft of breath, too. Good.
“Well, what?” she managed, her chest heaving, her gloved hand braced on the balustrade for balance.
He bit his lip and tilted his head to the side. “Do I owe you an apology for that?”
She narrowed her eyes on him. She wished she could breathe normally. She wished she could think normally. None of this was normal, and she’d never responded anything like that to any man. But at the same time, no man had ever kissed her like that before, either.
It was good. Better than good. She wanted to do it again. Immediately. But she’d die before she told him that. She searched her brain for the correct words. Something adequately tutor-like and condemning. “A gentleman should never take such liberties,” she forced herself to say, pressing her lips together primly, trying to pretend as if they didn’t still tingle from his kisses.
A sensual half-smile tugged at his lips. “I never said I was a gentleman.”
“But you’re trying to be, aren’t you?” Oh, no. The squeak was back. Her voice was neither clear nor confident. Perhaps talking was not the answer now. Perhaps she should shut her mouth and run inside the house. That seemed far more expedient than words at the moment.
“Not if it means missing out on a kiss like that,” he answered, rubbing a finger absently against the seam of his firm lips, as if remembering.
She tried to tamp down her answering smile, but it was too late—though she recovered herself enough in time to say what she knew she must. “That was improper, David. Of both of us.”
