Page 79 of My Wicked Earl
Colin clenched the cheroot between his teeth and gave Ridley a scathing look. “Now, out of consideration for Lady Miranda’s reputation and yours, I’ll not share this little incident with Lord Cambourne.” Colin sniffed the air. “You’ve had a wee bit too much to drink, Ridley. I’ll overlook your behavior and your insults. You’re not yourself.”
Ridley pushed back a piece of hair that had fallen against his forehead. He straightened his sleeves, brushing them off as he composed himself. Turning to Miranda he bowed. “My apologies, Lady Miranda. I fear that I may have enjoyed your brother’s wine more than was wise during dinner. I believe I shall retire early this evening.”
“Of course, my lord,” Miranda gently touched Ridley’s arm. “We shall not speak of this again.”
Colin winked and slapped Ridley on the back. “No harm done, Ridley. I’ll see Lady Miranda back to the house.”
Ridley stumbled a bit, his shoes slipping on the gravel path. He gave Colin a hard look, but he wisely said no more.
Colin watched until Ridley vanished from sight before turning to her.
“That was not necessary.” Miranda’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at being caught in such a situation with Ridley.Edwin,she reminded herself.I’ve decided that despite his boorish behavior this evening, I’ll marry Ridley.
“Was I to allow you to be mauled in the gardens of your own home and not come to your aid? What were you thinking?” The upper crust accent slipped.
Miranda lifted her chin defiantly. “Quite frankly, Lord Kilmaire, it is none of your business whom I take walks with in the garden.”
As he stepped closer, moonlight fell over his shoulders, bathing the left side of his face. The scar stretched like a bolt of lightning on his cheek.
Unexpectedly, he reached out to touch her hair.
“I never told you, but I think of you when I write her.” His voice was soft and low, vibrating through Miranda.
He wrapped an ebony curl about his finger. “I adore this curl.”
“Don’t.” Miranda gave his hand a half-hearted slap. She felt the brush of his finger against her chest as he tugged on the curl, sending a burst of fire down her breasts. The awareness of him silenced the world around Miranda, as it often did, leaving nothing but Colin. She could no longer hear the night song of the birds nor the gentle ripple of the breeze through the tall grass, only the sound of Colin’s breathing as he watched her.
He tossed the cheroot to the ground and put it out with a twist of his heel. “I don’t know what to do,” he murmured, bringing the curl to his lips.
Miranda’s breath caught. “About what?” Her body leaned towards him, begging for his kiss.
“I think you know.” He released the curl. One elegant finger trailed along the neckline of her gown, his face hardening as he noticed the torn lace. He moved no closer, but his finger continued the inspection of her person, moving slowly down the side of her breast to circle her hardening nipple through the silk.
Heat radiated through her.
Colin looked down at her, his eyes dark and half-lidded as his finger continued the circular motion around her nipple before lightly brushing the tip of the engorged peak. He watched the path of his finger as it left her nipple to wander across the valley between her breasts then down to her stomach.
The muscles of her stomach contracted delightfully beneath his touch. She had to bite her lip from moaning out loud, the pleasure was so intense. Her lips parted in expectation.
The brush of his lips against hers was featherlight. The tip of his tongue ran along the seam of her mouth, tracing her lower lip. One large hand splayed possessively against her stomach, holding her in place, while his other hand seemed to wander aimlessly over her body.
Miranda’s toes curled inside her slippers.
Colin’s mouth left hers, moving up the side of her jaw, even as she felt the press of his fingers against the underside of her breast.
She swayed towards him and tilted her head, an invitation for his mouth to tease the soft skin of her neck.
Colin did not deny her. His lips leisurely explored the column of her throat, coming to rest just beneath her ear. Gently he pulled the plump lobe of her ear between his teeth.
“You’ll not marry Ridley,” he whispered.
“No,” she agreed.
“Chose another.”
Had he thrown a bucket of ice water over her, Miranda could not have been more surprised. Surely, he was joking.
“But you want me.” Miranda said stupidly.
