my wife. Will you?”
Gently but firmly, she extricated her hand from his clasp. “I’m most honored, of course, but I fear my answer must be no. I have no intention of marrying again, ever, no matter how much I might like a man.”
As stunned as though she had dumped cold water upon his head, Jack nearly let the reins go slack, before the sidling of his spirited horses recalled him. Bringing them quickly under control, he turned back to this most startling woman. “You are certain?”
She nodded. “I am absolutely resolved, and have been so for some time. I’m sorry, Jack.”
7
Nessa watched the rapid play of emotions across Jack’s face with some concern. Was it possible that he actually cared enough for her to be wounded by her refusal? It seemed highly unlikely. More reasonable was the theory that he needed her wealth, though Prudence had implied he was quite well set-up financially.
“Jack?” she prompted softly, when he made no response to her final words.
He blinked, her voice apparently jarring him out of his thoughts. “I beg your pardon, Lady Haughton, and hope I have not offended you by my precipitousness.” His tone was distracted, as though his mind were not on his words.
“I gave you leave to call me Nessa, remember? I’m not at all offended, and do hope we can remain friends.”
The smile he gave her was rather twisted. “Friends. Of course.” He studied her for a moment, consideringly, then leaned toward her. “Very good friends, perhaps?” His voice was now low and suggestive.
Nessa felt a shiver of mingled alarm and excitement. But surely, this was what she’d been hoping for? “That…that might be pleasant.” Though she tried for a seductive tone, the words came out rather high and breathless.
Jack drove on for a few moments, and Nessa realized that he was guiding the phaeton down one of the less-traveled side paths of the Park. Again, that curious mixture of fear and anticipation coursed through her. What might he be intending?
A minute or two later, he pulled the horses to a halt. They’d rounded a bend and trees now screened them from any onlookers. Transferring the reins to one hand, he turned toward her.
“I’d like to be your very good friend, Nessa.” With his free hand, he reached out to gently—so gently—stroke her cheek. A wild jumble of feelings assailed her at his touch, so unlike any touch she’d experienced before.
Unconsciously, she leaned into his hand. “I…I should like that, Jack.” Again her voice trembled, defying her control.
Stroking again from temple to jawline, he then curled his fingers at the nape of her neck and drew her, again so gently, toward him. For just the barest second Nessa resisted, then became pliable under his touch, swaying forward until their lips were only inches apart.
“I should like that, too,” he said softly. Tilting his head slightly, he brought their lips together.
His kiss was not precisely demanding, but it was very thorough. He began by gliding his lips along theouter edges of hers, then delicately explored her lips with the very tip of his tongue. Finally he pressed his mouth firmly upon hers, and she felt her own soft and yielding beneath his. And then it was over.
Nessa realized she was breathing very quickly. Lord Haughton had never kissed her like that! His infrequent kisses had been either dry, fatherly pecks, or wet and unpleasant—the latter during their occasional couplings. Lord Foxhaven’s kiss was something else entirely.
And most pleasant.
She smiled up at him and thought he looked startled for a moment. “Is that how a rake kisses?” she asked. “I suppose there is something to be said for experience.”
He was undeniably startled now. “Lady Haughton—Nessa—you are a woman of continual surprises.” His hand, still on the nape of her neck, tightened there for an instant, as though to pull her to him again—but then he released her.
“I should take you back to your sister’s.
Gently but firmly, she extricated her hand from his clasp. “I’m most honored, of course, but I fear my answer must be no. I have no intention of marrying again, ever, no matter how much I might like a man.”
As stunned as though she had dumped cold water upon his head, Jack nearly let the reins go slack, before the sidling of his spirited horses recalled him. Bringing them quickly under control, he turned back to this most startling woman. “You are certain?”
She nodded. “I am absolutely resolved, and have been so for some time. I’m sorry, Jack.”
7
Nessa watched the rapid play of emotions across Jack’s face with some concern. Was it possible that he actually cared enough for her to be wounded by her refusal? It seemed highly unlikely. More reasonable was the theory that he needed her wealth, though Prudence had implied he was quite well set-up financially.
“Jack?” she prompted softly, when he made no response to her final words.
He blinked, her voice apparently jarring him out of his thoughts. “I beg your pardon, Lady Haughton, and hope I have not offended you by my precipitousness.” His tone was distracted, as though his mind were not on his words.
“I gave you leave to call me Nessa, remember? I’m not at all offended, and do hope we can remain friends.”
The smile he gave her was rather twisted. “Friends. Of course.” He studied her for a moment, consideringly, then leaned toward her. “Very good friends, perhaps?” His voice was now low and suggestive.
Nessa felt a shiver of mingled alarm and excitement. But surely, this was what she’d been hoping for? “That…that might be pleasant.” Though she tried for a seductive tone, the words came out rather high and breathless.
Jack drove on for a few moments, and Nessa realized that he was guiding the phaeton down one of the less-traveled side paths of the Park. Again, that curious mixture of fear and anticipation coursed through her. What might he be intending?
A minute or two later, he pulled the horses to a halt. They’d rounded a bend and trees now screened them from any onlookers. Transferring the reins to one hand, he turned toward her.
“I’d like to be your very good friend, Nessa.” With his free hand, he reached out to gently—so gently—stroke her cheek. A wild jumble of feelings assailed her at his touch, so unlike any touch she’d experienced before.
Unconsciously, she leaned into his hand. “I…I should like that, Jack.” Again her voice trembled, defying her control.
Stroking again from temple to jawline, he then curled his fingers at the nape of her neck and drew her, again so gently, toward him. For just the barest second Nessa resisted, then became pliable under his touch, swaying forward until their lips were only inches apart.
“I should like that, too,” he said softly. Tilting his head slightly, he brought their lips together.
His kiss was not precisely demanding, but it was very thorough. He began by gliding his lips along theouter edges of hers, then delicately explored her lips with the very tip of his tongue. Finally he pressed his mouth firmly upon hers, and she felt her own soft and yielding beneath his. And then it was over.
Nessa realized she was breathing very quickly. Lord Haughton had never kissed her like that! His infrequent kisses had been either dry, fatherly pecks, or wet and unpleasant—the latter during their occasional couplings. Lord Foxhaven’s kiss was something else entirely.
And most pleasant.
She smiled up at him and thought he looked startled for a moment. “Is that how a rake kisses?” she asked. “I suppose there is something to be said for experience.”
He was undeniably startled now. “Lady Haughton—Nessa—you are a woman of continual surprises.” His hand, still on the nape of her neck, tightened there for an instant, as though to pull her to him again—but then he released her.
“I should take you back to your sister’s.
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