A Kiss at Midnight by Eloisa James Page B

time since she met him, he looked angry. Against all odds, the look of him made her laugh. “You look like a grocer whose daily allotment of potatoes didn’t arrive.”
    “Potatoes,” he said. “You compare yourself to a potato?”
    “Look, you just can’t go and kiss English ladies whenever you feel the urge,” she said. “Here, Caesar! Come back.” Caesar had apparently realized the lion was asleep and had started sniffing at the cage bars again. “I don’t want you turned into the lion’s supper.”
    “Why can’t I?”
    A mop of hair had fallen over his eyes and she had to admit that he looked like the sort of man who could kiss anyone he pleased. He looked explosive and utterly sensual and dangerous. Henry’s assessment of him came back into her mind at that very moment: He was just like her father, the sort of man who would never be faithful.
    Her smile turned bittersweet. “Because you’re not for every woman,” she explained, trying to put it kindly. “For goodness’ sake, are all princes like this?”
    He walked closer and she eyed him, but he didn’t look lustful as much as curious.
    “You can’t tell me that a woman simply enters a royal court in Marburg or wherever it is you’re from and expects to be kissed by any prince who happens upon her.”
    “Of course not!”
    “Well, why on earth would you think I am available for kissing?”
    “To be honest, because you’re here in the dark,” he said.
    It was a fair point. “I’m here only because of my dogs,” she said defensively.
    “You spoke to me for quite a while. You have no chaperone with you. Wick tells me that you arrived with a single maid to attend you.”
    Damn Mariana for throwing their governess out of the house. “I would have brought my maid downstairs with me but she has indigestion,” Kate said.
    “I think you forgot to summon her. I assure you that young ladies in the court never forget their maids, and they are never alone,” he stated. “They travel together, like flocks of starlings. Or packs of dogs,” he added, as Caesar growled at the lion.
    She could hardly explain that her governess had been dismissed the day after her father died, and consequently she had never learned to travel in a flock. “I should have been accompanied by my maid,” she said, “but you mustn’t assume that every woman wishes to kiss you.”
    He stared at her.
    “This is a ridiculous conversation,” she muttered. “Caesar, come here! It’s time to go.” The dog stayed at the cage, growling.
    “Absurd animal,” she said, scooping him up.
    “I thought,” the prince said, “that I might seduce you.”
    She turned around, mouth open. “You can’t go about trying to seduce young ladies!” she squeaked.
    “If I weren’t betrothed already, I would consider marrying you.”
    Kate snorted. “You might consider it the way you would consider a case of the measles. No, you wouldn’t, and you shouldn’t imply that you would.”
    He took one step and looked down at her with his midnight eyes. Some dim part of her mind registered that his lips weren’t thin at all. Quite the opposite, really.
    “I’m a shrew, remember?” she told him. “Look, what are you doing? You’re a prince. This is a remarkably improper conversation, and you shouldn’t try to do it with other young ladies or you will be forced to marry someone, likely at the end of a dueling pistol held by her father.”
    “Your father?” he asked, still staring down at her.
    “My father is dead,” she said, feeling a queer thump of her heart. “But you and he had a great deal in common, and I’m afraid that that has given me immunity to your particular charms.”
    “Not to mention, you’re in love with Dimsdale. Did your father want you to marry him?”
    “My father died years ago. He doesn’t belong in this conversation. Anyway, you’re quite mad. You couldn’t marry me, and it’s unkind of you to raise my expectations. What if I believed you? You