Page 36 of The Secret Life of a Lady
They reached her chair, and Hannah turned to face him. She nodded quickly before she lost her nerve. This was her opportunity. Time alone with Killian. But now he’d made the offer, anxiety and anticipation waged a war within her. Could she actually engage in a physical affair? Her body screamed a vehementyeseven as her mind warned her of the consequences. But Killian was nothing like the putrid baron, nor any of the other dandies she watched from the darkened corners of ballrooms as they seduced the women of the beau monde. He was honest, and brave, and honourable. Even if his faith was misplaced in the House of Lords, and his stubborn opinions were wrong, and his views on love were irrevocably jaded.
Killian exhaled. His green eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. ‘Good.’ He turned and walked to his seat further down the table.
Hannah sat before her shaky legs gave out completely.Dear Lord. She was actually going to do it. She was going to seduce a duke.
9
Deciding what to wear for a scandalous interlude was damnably difficult when all of Hannah’s clothes were made for economy of movement and a desire to be invisible. In the end, she settled for a clean cotton shift and her softest flannel robe. She huffed at her reflection in the mirror. It was nearing midnight. She had already sent Betty to bed, Philippa was undoubtedly sipping whiskey in her room, and Hannah was on the verge of needing smelling salts.
Toying nervously with the end of her braid, she pressed her lips together to bring some colour to her otherwise pale face.
‘You can stop at any time. Quit being such a silly ninny!’ She scolded herself in the mirror and almost missed the quiet knock. ‘Drat!’ she whispered before moving swiftly to the door.
Killian entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. He was wearing his suit from dinner, but he had removed his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal an inch of skin at his throat.
She backed away from him, feeling the unfamiliar zing of fear. Not that he would hurt her, but that she wasn’t ready for this momentous step.
He leaned against the door. His eyes took in every detail of her with an expression nearing hunger. Hannah’s blood flooded back to her face in a rush of warmth. Now she worried there was too much colour in her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she wrapped her robe tighter around her body and crossed her arms over her chest.
‘Hello.’ Hannah could have died. Of all the inane, stupid things to say. She bit her lip, wishing she could turn into a wisp of smoke and float away.
Killian smiled, his eyes flashing with wicked humour. ‘Hello.’
He pushed away from the door, and Hannah found herself stepping backward at the same pace he moved forward. She kept an equal distance between them until she ran into the back of a loveseat near the small fireplace at the south end of her room.
‘Are you nervous?’ He asked an obvious question with an equally obvious answer.
Yes!
Hannah tipped up her chin and shook her head in a blatant lie. It was bad enough that her knees were knocking together, and a swarm of ants had taken residence in her stomach. She didn’t need him to know how incredibly vulnerable she was in this moment.
He smiled again. The firelight played over his features, throwing his eyes into shadows, highlighting his prominent cheekbones and the laugh lines bracketing his beautiful mouth. He really did have ridiculously well-placed teeth which flashed at her when he spoke. ‘I think we should sit first and talk.’
‘Talk?’ Hannah’s pulse beat in her throat. Could he see its mad pace?
He closed the distance between them. Hannah stiffened. Looking directly in his eyes seemed too intimate. Too raw. Instead, she stared at his left earlobe. Ah, yes. Much better.
Lifting his hand, he traced her features from forehead to cheek to chin, where his fingers lingered. ‘Look at me,’ he commanded softly.
Hannah rarely responded well to being told what to do, but in this circumstance, she was adrift. A small part of her appreciated his authority. Also, there was desperation in his tone. Perhaps he was feeling a little nervous too. The combination of control and vulnerability was impossible to resist.
As she lifted her gaze, she noticed his eyelashes were obscenely thick, framing eyes more green tonight than hazel.
Leaning slowly closer, he pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. ‘I think it’s important we talk first.’
Hannah swallowed. She took an unsteady breath and nodded.First. Such an innocuous word, yet laden with meaning. Because after talking, what would comenext? Surely something quite extraordinary.
Leading him around the couch, she extended her hand in an invitation to sit. Before obliging her, he removed his jacket and folded it over a chair just left of the couch. As he moved, she could see the fine linen of his shirt pull tight over his shoulders. Moisture pooled between her legs.Dear God. Hannah’s cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. What would he say if he knew? But he couldn’t possibly.
He sat on the loveseat and rested his left ankle on his right knee, a man at his leisure. Meanwhile, Hannah was balancing on the edge of a wire, certain to fall.
She perched on the chair where his jacket was draped. He was supposed to enter the room and ravish her immediately, alleviating any need for thought or conversation. But the infuriating man never acted predictably. Prolonging the anticipation in this way made the whole prospect suddenly more illicit. What could he possibly want to discuss at a time like this?
‘I’m not in the habit of seducing virgins.’
Ah. He wants to discuss the most awkward and embarrassing topic imaginable. Marvellous.
Hannah opened her mouth to try and form a response, but only managed a strangled squeak.
