Page 48 of To Catch a Viscount

“Uh, I think I can see that they are, Andrew.” If the rolling of one’s eyes had possessed a sound, it would have been contained in this minx’s voice.

Grabbing her gloves, he held them aloft. “There’s these.” He held one of his hands before her. “And these.”

She blinked and then drew back. “You’re too close, Andrew,” she muttered, and then catching his palm in hers, she dragged it closer to her eyes, angling his hand left and right, analyzing it from top to bottom the way a scientist might examine a foreign object.

Then she proceeded to run her fingers along the palm of his hand—his gloved palm, and yet, her touch, feathery soft, gentle, determined, managed to penetrate that material, and his mind grew thick, and his mouth went dry.

All from a lady’s innocent touch.

He swallowed hard, or attempted to.

He’d never had an interest in innocent women. In fact, he hadn’t understood the reprehensible fellows who bothered with virginal young ladies.

Until now. With Marcia trailing her long, graceful fingers over his hand as if tracing and exploring its contours, it made sense.

This was the manner of temptation that compelled those most wicked of scoundrels. They’d had the right of it all along, with their knowledge of the desire inspired by an innocent’s lady’s touch.

Then she dragged his hand up and closer, holding it near her mouth, and he sucked in a breath.

“I do not see it,” she muttered. “I do not see it.” Marcia abruptly shoved his hand away from her face onto his lap. She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

I don’t get it.

That would make two of them this night.

He gave his head a clearing shake.Get control of yourself, man.

This time, wise enough to avoid the temptation that came in touching her, Andrew jabbed a finger first at the glove at her side and then the one he wore. “White,” he said. “Black.”

She pointed those chocolate-brown eyes up to the heavens. “Yes, I know the color is different, Andrew.”

“The white is like a damned flag, Marcia,” he exclaimed, his voice climbing to an exasperated near shout. “You may as well be announcing to the damned world that you are there.”

Her brow fell, and she reassessed his gloves and then hers. “You know, you are correct. I do see that now. I knew you were the right person for this assignment.”

The right person for this…

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

Lifting his hand, he knocked hard on the carriage roof, and the vehicle lurched into motion.

He braced his feet to steady himself even as Marcia pitched forward.

Andrew shot his hands out, catching her at her waist.

And he instantly regretted it.

Touching her.

The feel of her, slender and… warm, conjured memories of when she’d been in his arms last night, against him, panting and moaning, and—

With a curse, Andrew set her firmly back on her bench and released her, and then curling his hands tightly, he kept them down at his sides.

Angling his head towards the window, he stared out and prayed for a second time, this time praying that he’d not commit the greatest of sins and take her in his arms again.

From the moment she’d awakened that morning, Marcia had been filled with excitement. She’d thought of the wondrous moments she would experience.

But she’d not been able to forget the volatile ending of her exchange last evening with Andrew.

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