promise you, sweeting, you’ll never have to kiss any portion of me you don’t want to.”
She ducked her head as though embarrassed. As usual with her, this conversation had not gone at all as he’d planned, but he’d found it informative to say the least. And delightful. How could a woman reach her age and remain as innocent as a young girl?
Educating her might turn into an unexpected pleasure.
“Regarding your first kiss, I was curious as to whether you wished to experience it following our exchange of vows or if you wanted me to kiss you before then.”
“Oh.” Horror etched itself into her features. “You were asking when I wanted to be kissed, not where .”
“Yes, I suppose my question was in bad form.”
“Absolutely. I misunderstood—”
“Then allow me to be a tad clearer. Do you want your first kiss to take place at the church or here in the park—at this precise moment?”
Her mouth opened slightly, a soft whisper of breath escaping into the chill of the morning. Her gaze darted quickly around, as though she expected the people of London to have lost their wits and suddenly arrive in the park.
“We’re quite alone, sweeting.”
Her attention snapped back to him. She licked her lips in a provocative manner that caused his insides to tighten simply because he was certain she was unaware of how alluring he found the slow movement of her tongue.
And quite suddenly he discovered he wanted to kiss her with an urgency that might have frightened him if he had been an untried lad.
“I should think your wedding day will be nerve-racking enough without having to worry about that first kiss,” he prodded.
“Is it something I need to worry about?”
For some strange reason the alarm in her voice delighted him. Not because he wished to frighten her, but because she possessed the naïveté to harbor any concerns at all.
“No,” he assured her calmly, “but it’ll be one less thing preying on your mind.”
She nodded slightly. “Then I suppose getting it over with is a good idea.”
“Splendid.”
He dismounted, walked around his horse, came to stand beside hers, and held up his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Standing would work best, I should think. Horses tend to get skittish if too close.”
“Of course.”
She cupped his shoulders while he wrapped his hands around her waist. Dear God, but she had a tiny waist. He brought her slowly, gently to the ground. She weighed no more than he imagined a billowy cloud on a clear summer day might. She seemed to be proving false all he’d assumed about her.
“Are you certain you’ve never been kissed?” he asked.
“Never,” she rasped in a small, breathless voice.
He could see her chest rising and falling with her short breaths. She was nervous, apprehensive, perhaps even a bit anticipatory. He couldn’t explain what had prompted him to initiate this moment, why he wanted to alleviate her fears. He supposed, like her, he had a desire to get their first kiss over with. He couldn’t imagine marrying a woman with whom he’d had no physical contact whatsoever.
A waltz in a crowded ballroom certainly didn’t qualify.
If they had possessed the luxury of time, he would have taunted her with forbidden kisses behind those fronds for which she seemed to have a fondness. He would have arranged illicit moments in darkened corners and hallways. He would have taught her the advantage of wearing a low-cut gown to a ball. Ah, yes, he would have kissed her elsewhere and made her extremely glad he had.
But the wooing he started now would have to be finished later, after they were wed. The sun was rising, and he could hear the distant din of people getting about their day. For now, all he truly wanted was to reassure her that kissing him would not be torment.
“Then we should do it right, don’t you think?” he asked.
“Is there a wrong way?”
“Hardly.” He took her braid and began to unravel the plaited strands. “But some ways
She ducked her head as though embarrassed. As usual with her, this conversation had not gone at all as he’d planned, but he’d found it informative to say the least. And delightful. How could a woman reach her age and remain as innocent as a young girl?
Educating her might turn into an unexpected pleasure.
“Regarding your first kiss, I was curious as to whether you wished to experience it following our exchange of vows or if you wanted me to kiss you before then.”
“Oh.” Horror etched itself into her features. “You were asking when I wanted to be kissed, not where .”
“Yes, I suppose my question was in bad form.”
“Absolutely. I misunderstood—”
“Then allow me to be a tad clearer. Do you want your first kiss to take place at the church or here in the park—at this precise moment?”
Her mouth opened slightly, a soft whisper of breath escaping into the chill of the morning. Her gaze darted quickly around, as though she expected the people of London to have lost their wits and suddenly arrive in the park.
“We’re quite alone, sweeting.”
Her attention snapped back to him. She licked her lips in a provocative manner that caused his insides to tighten simply because he was certain she was unaware of how alluring he found the slow movement of her tongue.
And quite suddenly he discovered he wanted to kiss her with an urgency that might have frightened him if he had been an untried lad.
“I should think your wedding day will be nerve-racking enough without having to worry about that first kiss,” he prodded.
“Is it something I need to worry about?”
For some strange reason the alarm in her voice delighted him. Not because he wished to frighten her, but because she possessed the naïveté to harbor any concerns at all.
“No,” he assured her calmly, “but it’ll be one less thing preying on your mind.”
She nodded slightly. “Then I suppose getting it over with is a good idea.”
“Splendid.”
He dismounted, walked around his horse, came to stand beside hers, and held up his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Standing would work best, I should think. Horses tend to get skittish if too close.”
“Of course.”
She cupped his shoulders while he wrapped his hands around her waist. Dear God, but she had a tiny waist. He brought her slowly, gently to the ground. She weighed no more than he imagined a billowy cloud on a clear summer day might. She seemed to be proving false all he’d assumed about her.
“Are you certain you’ve never been kissed?” he asked.
“Never,” she rasped in a small, breathless voice.
He could see her chest rising and falling with her short breaths. She was nervous, apprehensive, perhaps even a bit anticipatory. He couldn’t explain what had prompted him to initiate this moment, why he wanted to alleviate her fears. He supposed, like her, he had a desire to get their first kiss over with. He couldn’t imagine marrying a woman with whom he’d had no physical contact whatsoever.
A waltz in a crowded ballroom certainly didn’t qualify.
If they had possessed the luxury of time, he would have taunted her with forbidden kisses behind those fronds for which she seemed to have a fondness. He would have arranged illicit moments in darkened corners and hallways. He would have taught her the advantage of wearing a low-cut gown to a ball. Ah, yes, he would have kissed her elsewhere and made her extremely glad he had.
But the wooing he started now would have to be finished later, after they were wed. The sun was rising, and he could hear the distant din of people getting about their day. For now, all he truly wanted was to reassure her that kissing him would not be torment.
“Then we should do it right, don’t you think?” he asked.
“Is there a wrong way?”
“Hardly.” He took her braid and began to unravel the plaited strands. “But some ways
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