“Well it’s a terrible thing to do. Very bad form.”
“So is telling a young woman that her very first kiss was a ‘bloody mistake’.”
“Stop doing that,” he scowled as another shard of guilt poked him.
“Doing what?”
“Quoting me.”
“Then stop saying things you wouldn’t want quoted.”
His jaw clenched. “That was your first kiss?”
She gave a small nod. “It was…not what I was expecting.”
Not what she was expecting?
Not what she was expecting?
He muttered a curse under his breath.
Devil take it.
Thiswas why he didn’t touch virgins.
There were no expectations with a paramour. Just mindless fucking. As long as they both received their orgasm–make that orgasmsfor his partner, as never let it be said the Duke of Hanover wasn’t a generous man–he didn’t care what happened afterwards. Eloise was as close as he’d come to caring for someone who’d shared his bed, and look howthathad ended up. With blood on the walls and an accusation of murder hanging about his neck like a damned noose.
That all being said, he could hardly leave Rosemary with a bad experience. Which meant he had no choice but to kiss her again. Not because he wanted to. Kiss a wallflower not once, buttwice?Perish the thought.
No, hehadto do it. Or else what would happen to his good name once Rosemary was set loose on London and told all her lady friends that he’d called their kiss–a kisshehad initiated–a mistake? And a lackluster mistake at that? They’d assume his performance had been substandard. And that couldn’t stand.
If thetonwanted to believe he’d carved up his mistress like a turkey and fed her to the lions at the zoo, then fine. He had no control over idle gossip. But he refused to let people think he was a poor kisser.
Dear God, his reputation would be destroyed!
Which meant there was only one solution.
“All right,” he said graciously. “I’ll do it. I’ll kiss you again.”
She smiled politely at him. “No thank you.”
Of all the contrary–
“Why the hell not?” he growled, throwing his arms wide. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I understand that I am regrettably ordinary, Your Grace. I’m not a diamond of the first water. My beauty will not provoke wars. Poets will not write sonnets about me. While my peers have set their caps for dukes and earls and the like, I should consider myself lucky if I manage to land a kindhearted doctor or businessman.” Her throat visibly tightened as she swallowed. “But that does not mean I shall permit myself to settle for a kiss out of some misplaced notion of pity.”
Sterling blinked.
Ordinary?
Pity?
Clearly squirrel dandruff had driven the chit a tad mad. He’d never met anyone asunordinary as Rosemary in all his twenty-seven years. As for pity…
“You askedmeto kissyou.”
“Yes,” she acknowledged, “and you refused. Now you’re only saying you’ll do it because you feel sorry for me.”
