Page 6 of The Moonstone Governess
She pushed away, furious with him.
“Go ahead, slap me. I won’t stop you this time, since even I will admit I deserve it.” He held out his hands, allowing himself to be a target. “However, if you wish me to be honest about it, I am not sorry I kissed you.”
“I am not going to slap you and risk another kiss, for you are just perverse enough to do something like that,” she replied. “Since we are being honest with each other… I did not like your kiss in the least.”
He saw the heat in her eyes and knew for a fact that quite the opposite was true. She had adored it. Women always did, especiallytonwomen who understood the rules of engagement, which Brenna did not. One did not pry into the hearts of men like him without risk of getting kissed…or burned…or both.
“You are an oaf,” she shot back when he grinned at her.
“And you are lying to yourself if you believe my kiss did not melt your bones.” He raked a hand through his hair, and his grin slipped. “If you insist on insulting me, then you ought to be more precise about it. I am a snake, not an oaf.”
“No, your anguish is the coiled snake. You are… I don’t know what you are yet, other than arrogant and impossibly forward.” Having said that, the snoopy bundle of froth who called herself Brenna tore down the hillside toward Moonstone Landing.
He sighed, knowing he needed to go after her and make things right, because what he had done had been unspeakably offensive, even for him.
She had asked what he wanted, and he had shown her because that plush ruby mouth of hers was irresistible.
Perhaps he had responded with too much honesty.
But she had not remained indifferent, for he saw the innocent heat of passion in her eyes.
Where was the harm in a simple kiss?
Well, perhaps no harm for someone with experience.
Brenna was surprisingly inexperienced, as it turned out. How was he to know? Of course, this was something he should have picked up on. Had any man kissed her before this? She was such a sharp little thing, he just assumed she would be sharp about everything.
His mistake.
Lush, bow-shaped lips, emerald eyes as bright as starlight, and a wild mop of hair, a glorious mix of chestnut brown and darkest red, made for a beautiful woman, but not one who necessarily wished to leap into his bed. Or kiss him.
Even if she had liked their kiss more than she would ever admit.
Daire mounted Scipio and spurred him forward to catch up with Brenna, who was now running as fast as her legs would carry her toward the village. “You will fall and break your neck hurtling down the hillside if you do not slow down,” he said, cutting her off so that she was forced to stop or risk running headlong into his beast.
She was breathing hard, her lovely bosom heaving, as she struggled to restore her composure. Her eyes shimmered and her rosebud lips were lightly parted, which made him want to kiss her again. He did not reach out for her, however. That would only earn him another attempted slap, not to mention lose him any chance of acquiring her house.
“Truce, Miss Angel.” He dismounted and offered his arm to escort her back into town. “You were never in any danger from me.”
“Why did you kiss me in that…that…?”
“Scorching way?” Did she seriously need to ask? Had no one ever mentioned how pretty she was? He ached to kiss her every time she pursed her lips, something she had a habit of doing whenever she was thinking or fretting. “Here’s a hint—it had nothing to do with your wit or wisdom.”
She frowned at him. “You are quite the boor.”
“I never claimed to be anything else. You are the one who sought to delve into my soul. What did you think to find? Pretty butterflies and buttercups? Or were you thinking to uncover something heroic about me? I assure you, I have not sipped a drop of elixir capable of making me brave or valorous.”
“Are you suggesting you were never heroic in any respect? Yet you fought in the war when you could have bought your way out.”
“Who says I didn’t buy out my commission?”
“Your horse.”
“I was not aware my horse could talk.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Fine, fighting Napoleon does not make me a hero. It was a long time ago, and I was young and foolish.”
