what he was doing, he found himself once again plundering her soft, vulnerable mouth with a passion that left him feeling as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.
Dammit , he raged inwardly as he ended the hot, lusty kiss, that’s twice I’ve attacked my betrothed with all the finesse of a sailor home from a year at sea . Releasing her abruptly, he stepped back before she realized the effect of her touch on his traitorous body.
“Now, with your permission, I shall open the drapes,” he said, quickly crossing to the window while he gathered his wits.
What was there about this particular woman that made him lose his legendary control when the reigning beauties of London and Paris had failed to do so? She could not by any stretch of imagination be called a beautiful woman—or even a handsome one. Nor did she have a figure that would make a man look twice if he passed her on a London street.
Yet somehow the look of wonder in her emerald eyes reminded him that a lifetime ago, before the hellish carnage of the Peninsula, he, too, had looked on the world with wonder. And somehow the innocent sensuality of her eager response to his kisses made him feel as if all the other women he had known had been but a gaggle of lifeless, unfeeling dolls.
A flick of his wrist and sunlight flooded the small room, illuminating the object of his momentary insanity. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, dropping back onto the sofa as if her legs had been knocked out from under her. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but this kiss was even more…affecting…than the first one.”
She stared up at him, her small, heart-shaped face a picture of amazement. “Do they grow progressively more intense, my lord? For if they do, I wonder how any woman can be expected to survive her engagement with her senses intact—and I shall not even let myself think about the marriage bed.”
Theo sat down beside her. To tell the truth, his own legs felt a bit shaky. He smiled. “I take it then, you are not averse to my kisses.”
“Good heavens no! Quite the opposite, my lord. They are the nicest thing about you—although you do waltz superbly as well.”
“Thank you, Meg. But be honest, I sense there is something about me you distrust—possibly even dislike. I would very much like to know what that something is.”
So now she was “Meg” not “Miss Barrington.” Without so much as a by-your-leave, the supercilious fellow had dropped the formal form of address. She felt a shiver crawl her spine; she very much wished he hadn’t. The diminutive of the name she’d temporarily assumed sounded frighteningly intimate when spoken by lips that had just moments before sent her senses reeling. Still, she doubted it would do her much good to quibble over such a minor impropriety. “Very well, Theo ,” she said, following his lead, “if it’s the truth you want, then the truth you shall have. To begin with, I find your monstrous arrogance a bit disconcerting.”
“Do you indeed? How interesting.” He stretched his left arm along the back of the sofa behind her and sent an odd tingling sensation coursing through her neck and shoulders. “It is a trait I learned at my mother’s knee. She assured me it was as essential a part of being the Earl of Lynley as administering my estates and taking my seat in the House of Lords. I fear, little commoner, that you may have to learn to live with my ‘monstrous arrogance.’ Old habits die hard at the advanced age of two and thirty. Though if anyone can put me in my place, it will surely be the sharp-tongued lady who is about to become my wife.”
But that union will never come about. Oddly enough, that thought failed to afford Maeve the comfort she’d expected. She felt tortured with guilt over her part in the deception perpetrated on her sister’s intended bridegroom. But more than that, she suspected she might have found taking the toplofty Earl down a peg to be the most exciting challenge
Dammit , he raged inwardly as he ended the hot, lusty kiss, that’s twice I’ve attacked my betrothed with all the finesse of a sailor home from a year at sea . Releasing her abruptly, he stepped back before she realized the effect of her touch on his traitorous body.
“Now, with your permission, I shall open the drapes,” he said, quickly crossing to the window while he gathered his wits.
What was there about this particular woman that made him lose his legendary control when the reigning beauties of London and Paris had failed to do so? She could not by any stretch of imagination be called a beautiful woman—or even a handsome one. Nor did she have a figure that would make a man look twice if he passed her on a London street.
Yet somehow the look of wonder in her emerald eyes reminded him that a lifetime ago, before the hellish carnage of the Peninsula, he, too, had looked on the world with wonder. And somehow the innocent sensuality of her eager response to his kisses made him feel as if all the other women he had known had been but a gaggle of lifeless, unfeeling dolls.
A flick of his wrist and sunlight flooded the small room, illuminating the object of his momentary insanity. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, dropping back onto the sofa as if her legs had been knocked out from under her. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but this kiss was even more…affecting…than the first one.”
She stared up at him, her small, heart-shaped face a picture of amazement. “Do they grow progressively more intense, my lord? For if they do, I wonder how any woman can be expected to survive her engagement with her senses intact—and I shall not even let myself think about the marriage bed.”
Theo sat down beside her. To tell the truth, his own legs felt a bit shaky. He smiled. “I take it then, you are not averse to my kisses.”
“Good heavens no! Quite the opposite, my lord. They are the nicest thing about you—although you do waltz superbly as well.”
“Thank you, Meg. But be honest, I sense there is something about me you distrust—possibly even dislike. I would very much like to know what that something is.”
So now she was “Meg” not “Miss Barrington.” Without so much as a by-your-leave, the supercilious fellow had dropped the formal form of address. She felt a shiver crawl her spine; she very much wished he hadn’t. The diminutive of the name she’d temporarily assumed sounded frighteningly intimate when spoken by lips that had just moments before sent her senses reeling. Still, she doubted it would do her much good to quibble over such a minor impropriety. “Very well, Theo ,” she said, following his lead, “if it’s the truth you want, then the truth you shall have. To begin with, I find your monstrous arrogance a bit disconcerting.”
“Do you indeed? How interesting.” He stretched his left arm along the back of the sofa behind her and sent an odd tingling sensation coursing through her neck and shoulders. “It is a trait I learned at my mother’s knee. She assured me it was as essential a part of being the Earl of Lynley as administering my estates and taking my seat in the House of Lords. I fear, little commoner, that you may have to learn to live with my ‘monstrous arrogance.’ Old habits die hard at the advanced age of two and thirty. Though if anyone can put me in my place, it will surely be the sharp-tongued lady who is about to become my wife.”
But that union will never come about. Oddly enough, that thought failed to afford Maeve the comfort she’d expected. She felt tortured with guilt over her part in the deception perpetrated on her sister’s intended bridegroom. But more than that, she suspected she might have found taking the toplofty Earl down a peg to be the most exciting challenge
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