Page 23 of It's In The Duke's Kiss
She’d give up sweets forever if whoever was standing there was her papa and most definitely not the Duke of Blackbourne. She could only imagine what such a collected, proper man would think of this embarrassing display of clumsiness. Steeling herself, she tilted her head back just as Blackbourne kneeled down. Their eyes met, and she groaned.
He let out the same deep belly laugh he had in the parlor. “Are you unwounded?”
“Yes. Except for my pride.”
He laughed again, much louder than he had seconds ago.
She scowled at him. “It’s not proper to laugh at ladies who have ungracefully fallen to their knees.”
“You’re most definitely correct,” he said, sobering. “I should be shocked at the words you know, not amused.”
Heat seared her face. “You heard me?”
“Oh yes,” he said, drawing out the last word teasingly. “Where did you learn such vocabulary?” he asked as he gripped her under her arms and pulled her gently to her feet.
He immediately released her, yet did not step back to put proper distance between them. Her skin burned deliciously where his hands had touched her, and her heart skipped several racing beats as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was mere inches from hers, and in the blazing moonlight, she could see a smile curving his lips and a flash of white teeth.
“I overheard my papa say them once,” she explained. “I don’t use them often.”
“Only when you’re very angry?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I suppose you’re horrified.”
“Not at all,” he responded, and as he did, his breath, tinged with whiskey, washed over her. She inhaled sharply as the tingles of earlier became dizzying pinpricks throughout her body. Her stomach tightened, and she no longer felt cold but incredibly warm. Her reaction to the duke was exactly the one she had wrongly thought she would have toward his brother.
She inhaled a long breath. “I’m surprised. You seem like a man who prizes decorum.”
“Not decorum, Lady Emmaline. Peace. I prize peace because I’ve had precious little of it.”
Oh, how she wished she could properly see his eyes to read his emotions. His voice, carefully neutral, revealed little of what he truly felt.
“I myself have a few favorite words I use when I’m angry,” he said. “I feel much better when I let them loose.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, plunking her hands on her hips.
“I never lie, Lady Emmaline.” His voice had taken on a playful tone.
“Then teach me,” she said, feeling bold and wanting to learn a secret part of this mysterious man.
“I offer no lessons for free,” he said. His voice had changed from playful to smooth and intoxicating.
Heat swirled in her belly. “What’s your price?”
“A kiss.”
“A kiss?”She heard the disbelief and yearning in her own voice.
He dragged a hand through his hair, then gave his cravat a vicious yank. “I’m sorry. That was unpardonable of me. I don’t know what overcame me. Please forget—”
“I’ll pay your price,” she blurted. She’d never been kissed. She’d evaded quite a few attempts at stolen kisses before because she’d never felt the least bit of desire for any of the gentlemen who’d tried, but she wanted very much to be kissed by Blackbourne. Something within her responded to him, and she was beginning to question if he was cold like she’d thought or if it was a façade. She was questioning everything. She’d come here tonight hoping to confirm Nathan was the gentleman for her, but now she could not think beyond wanting Blackbourne’s lips on hers. She felt as if her thoughts and emotions were a jumbled spool of thread.
She could hear a rush of air from his lungs as he exhaled sharply. “You’re certain?”
“Yes,” she replied.
He moved closer until they almost touched. Her body seemed to lean toward his, and then his fingers slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and he lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips brushed ever so gently, yet the power of their contact almost brought her to her knees. She groaned and clutched his arms for support, and he responded with a deep, guttural sound of satisfaction.
The gentle kiss became more passionate as his mouth slanted over hers and his tongue demanded entry into her mouth. She parted her lips, eager to taste him and feel him. He tasted of liquor, and his tongue, velvety smooth, caressed hers. Her senses reeled as his hands moved from her head to her neck and then to the small of her back.
