My Brown-Eyed Earl by Anna Bennett

body.
    She cried out softly, but he swallowed the sound and murmured against her mouth. “I always knew.”
    Reluctantly, she broke off the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “What did you know?”
    His heavy-lidded eyes gleamed, reflecting her own desire. “That you were a magnificent, passionate creature.”
    In other circumstances, she might have been insulted, but since he clearly meant it as a compliment, she decided to accept it as such. “Thank you.”
    â€œI told you the day wasn’t all bad. We managed to salvage the end.”
    He pressed a kiss to her palm and held her hand in his lap for a minute, giving her pulse a chance to return to normal. With each beat of her heart, she felt the spell between them slowly breaking, and the stark reality of their situation intruding once more.
    She had everything to lose. Her virtue, her pride, her job.… her heart.
    Suddenly self-conscious, she pulled her hand away and smoothed a tendril of hair behind her ear. She required time and space to think about what had just happened and to figure out what, if anything, it had meant. “This day did have some things to recommend it. However, I think that now I shall truly retire for the evening.”
    When she reached for the balustrade to pull herself up, he immediately stood and offered his hand, lifting her to her feet. With his hair disheveled and cravat askew he looked vaguely lost. Almost vulnerable. “Until tomorrow,” he said, his words holding the hint of a question.
    â€œOf course.” However, she wasn’t really sure of anything. Not while her lips were still swollen and her mind was still reeling from his kiss. “Tomorrow.”
    He walked beside her as she made her way to her bedchamber, crossing his arms as though he didn’t quite trust his hands to be free. As she opened the door, he stepped aside but lingered.
    Perhaps he wanted to say something, like I shouldn’t have kissed you . Or ask her a question, like Could we pretend this interlude never happened?
    Or maybe he wanted to kiss her again.
    Her skin tingled at the thought.
    He leaned his long frame against the doorjamb, reached for the curl resting on her shoulder, and twirled it around his finger as though mesmerized. His gaze drifted to her mouth, and she knew. He was going to kiss her again.
    But instead of coming closer, he dropped the curl and backed away solemnly. “Good night, Meg.”
    She closed the door to her room and rushed to the mirror above her washstand to check her reflection. She wanted to see if her face looked as flushed and her lips appeared as swollen as they felt. In short, she wanted to see if she had the look of a woman who’d been ravished.
    But no. The change, it seemed, was primarily on the inside.
    It was only after she’d washed, changed into her night rail, and slipped beneath the covers of her sumptuous bed that she realized the irony of the evening she’d spent with Will.
    She’d gone to see him intending to turn in her resignation, but had ended up kissing him.
    Even worse, she’d begun to think of him not as the earl or Lord Castleton , but as Will .
    Clear signs she had begun the steady and inexorable descent into madness.

 
    Chapter TEN
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    Despite the warm breeze wafting through an open window, the room reeked of stale sweat and blood. Will eyed his opponent, Alec, who lightly bounced from foot to foot, his boxing gloves raised in front of his torso. Their weekly match at Jackson’s Saloon was a welcome diversion from the mental flogging Will had been giving himself since kissing Meg—his governess for God’s sake—the night before last. It complicated everything, and complications were precisely what he did not need.
    But Alec was no novice at the sport, and if Will wanted to preserve his month-long winning streak, not to mention his straight nose, he had to focus on the basics—footwork, jabs, and