His eyes narrowed and he leaned toward her. “Tell me, Mrs. Feld, did you read the scandal sheets this morning?”
“Heavens, no,” she answered, looking past him and over the spacious park. “I couldn’t bring myself to read them. I don’t want to know what they are saying about me. I heard enough whispers last night.”
“They were kind to you. The one I read had only high praise for you and your ultimatums. Though it was clear the author of the gossip column had not a hope in hel—heaven that you or my family could change me and make me worthy of the title earl.”
She didn’t know why, but her gaze fell to the sensuous curve of his lips and she imagined them on hers again.
“Do you think you can change?” she asked.
In the blink of an eye, he caught her shoulders in his hands, pulled her up to him, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against hers.
Brina expected the same wild, short kiss he’d given her in Paris. Instead, his lips landed softly on hers with infinite care. They were warm, pliant with merely a hint of delicate pressure. The back and forth movement was a light, feathery teasing sensation that caused her abdomen to tighten in response to the gentleness of his caress.
For a fleeting second, she thought to make a feeble attempt to resist him, but the mindless pleasure of being held so tightly and kissed again—and so thoroughly, it put a stop to the idea almost instantly. With little effort, his mouth gently coaxed her lips apart and the kiss continued with a sweetness she wouldn’t have thought possible from this man who had wagered at a club for her hand. Any notion of the kiss not continuing faded as quickly as resistance had, and in its place was the very selfish thought that after so long, she deserved this tender embrace.
There was really no other choice. Brina wanted to accept and join in the pleasure he was giving. She didn’t want to deny herself these few brief moments in his arms, even though at the back of her mind she knew they were standing under a tree in a park where anyone could happen by, see them, and blab to the world.
Not even that mattered. This moment with this man was worth the chance of getting caught, being disgraced.
There had always been an inexplicable, unrelenting attraction between them since the moment they’d met, and right now it was sizzling hot.
Her lips parted farther, a sigh of wanting escaped aspassion flared brightly inside her. The sheer intensity of how fast a deep longing for more filled her, almost overwhelmed her. Without forethought, her hands flattened against his hard chest and skimmed up the buttons on his waistcoat to grasp the warmth of his neck and pull him closer.
His fingers squeezed on her shoulders, digging into the soft flesh beneath her clothing. He held on to her possessively, as if she were something too precious to let go. In response, her fingers meshed into the length of his black hair, holding his head, and clinging to him as if he were her nourishment. The kiss deepened, their tongues met, played, and sought. The taste and thrill of his mouth on hers was exciting.
Brina forgot everything but his touch until slowly he raised his head and looked down into her eyes with a penetrating gaze that left her dizzy.
On a ragged breath with a raspy voice, he whispered, “I don’t know if I can change, Mrs. Feld. What do you think?”
For reasons she had no desire to contemplate, she couldn’t answer. After their kisses, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to change. She had no doubts about not wanting to marry him, but his kisses—yes. She could quite happily endure every one.
Chapter 10
Zane walked through the front door of the earl’s home shedding his outer clothing and stopped suddenly.
What was he thinking? It was his home now. He was the earl. Not his uncle, nor his uncle’s son, nor his older cousin. But him. They were all gone.
Damnation!
Why had all three of them been riding in the same carriage together that day anyway? Why hadn’t someone inspected the damned bridge over the canyon since there’d been weeks of torrential rain? Didn’t they know he was ill-prepared to take over for them?
He wasn’t supposed to be the earl.
Zane rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. He needed a drink.
Huffing another silent curse of frustration, he felt something, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the book of poetry Mrs. Feld had given him. He scoffed a laugh and wondered if she would take him to taskif she knew he was swearing like the devil in his thoughts.
Probably.
He laid the book on the side table but then picked it up. The corners were worn. She’d read it often. Maybe he’d give it a try. After all, he had pursued her in an ungentlemanly manner. Consciously, maybe even willfully. She hadn’t deserved it, but he wasn’t sorry he had done it.
In return she’d given as good as she got.
She was uncommonly headstrong for someone who had the look of a fragile night fairy with her glistening blond hair, big bright eyes, and fair, delicate-looking skin.
He hadn’t planned to kiss her in the park, but it was a damned good thing he’d thought to exempt kissing. She’d been particular with the rules set forth. Her passion had been just as strong when in his arms as it had been when she laid out her demands for acceptance of his proposal. He had no doubt that she would claim victory if he so much as sniffed a brandy, and that strength challenged him to be stronger. That passion inside her was what drew him. He’d sensed it that night in the chateau, and ever since he’d wanted to taste her lips once more.
For the better part of half an hour during the afternoon, he’d watched her be composed and measured in everything she said at the park. Her beautiful lips smiling at him, her graceful hands had laid clasped in repose on her lap. She’d been the personification of everything he’d heard about her. Kissing her had awakened an aching need inside him that he still carried.
