Page 34 of The Confessions of a Lady
Liam stopped in front of a smart brougham and opened the door. Lifting her inside before she could protest, he followed her into the small conveyance, crowding Penny to the far side of the two-person bench seat. Her ankle throbbed and she could feel the skin on her face tightening as her cheek started swelling. Her hair tumbled around her in a wet tangle. She was certain her coat had been ruined, ripped beyond repair. She was a right mess.
‘I shouldn’t be in here with you, my lord. It isn’t proper for a maid to ride with a marquess.’ The idea of walking home on her protesting ankle was a sobering thought, but safer perhaps than being caged in such a small space with her employer.
Liam glared at her before banging on the roof of the brougham. They lurched forward, the traffic on the busy street starting to lighten as the rain eased.
Propriety doesn’t seem to be high on his list of priorities.
Not really a surprise.
‘What exactly were you doing in such a dangerous part of London, Miss Smith?’ Liam turned slightly to face her, his broad shoulders taking up more space than Penny would have imagined. There really was almost no room in the sumptuous interior. Her leg pressed against his from hip to knee. She had to lean back against the velvet squabs to avoid their noses bumping each other if they hit a rut in the road.
This close, his amber eyes fairly glowed, framed with spiky lashes. Stubble on his cheek and chin glistened in the poor afternoon light. A scar as delicate as a moth’s leg cut through his top lip. She’d never noticed the detail before, not even when he’d kissed her in the library. Or she’d kissed him. Something she desperately wished to try again. Penny fought the urge to lean closer instead of pressing herself tightly against the brougham’s padded wall.
‘I was running an errand, my lord.’ Visiting her mother in a prison cell wouldn’t qualify as a typical errand for most people, but Penny wasn’t most people.
‘An errand?’ His eyebrow rose sceptically.
‘Yes, exactly.’
Liam frowned, breathing out a heavy sigh. ‘You aren’t going to tell me what you were doing, are you, Miss Smith?’
She started to smile, then winced as the gash stretched and a sticky, wet heat trickled down her face. ‘No, my lord.’
Liam fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a silk handkerchief. He didn’t have to lean very far forward to reach her face. Penny held her breath as he gently touched the soft material to her cheek and dabbed. His mouth was only scant inches away from hers. His words tickled her lips as he spoke. ‘I should have killed the bastard for hurting you.’ His voice melted something deep in her belly. A corresponding wetness bloomed between her thighs. He was seething with barely controlled rage. A shiver of awareness skated over Penny’s skin, her senses sparking to life.
Dear God. What kind of woman is aroused by such violent words from a dangerous man?
The kind who grew up in prison. The kind who found herself trapped in a dark alley with two men wishing her extreme harm. The kind who faced a battle she had no assurance of winning but was determined not to lose. The kind who understood how love could be feral and fierce just as easily as it could be soft and sweet. The Penny Smith kind of woman.
She leaned closer. ‘You say the sweetest things, my lord.’
Violence, lust, and fear waged an epic battle in Liam, but Miss Smith determined the victor of his conflicting emotions when her mouth hovered just a breath away from his. With a pained growl, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against hers.
She tasted of sweet and tart apple. Intoxicating. Liam flicked his tongue to lick the seam of her mouth. Freezing for a moment, Penny parted her lips just enough for him to test the soft texture. He’d wager she hadn’t kissed many men. In fact, he might be the first. That was clear in her reaction to his tongue. She sucked in a shocked breath as he pressed his advantage, gently seekingentrance. When she opened her mouth and melted against him, Liam almost thanked the fates he so recently cursed.
Something possessive and protective rose in him. It became of singular importance that she enjoy this moment. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, teasing her with a scrape of teeth over the plump flesh, inviting her to play, but leaving the decision up to Penny.
She moaned, the sound vibrating along his nerves, hardening his already thickening cock. He was going to lose control after one kiss.
Not with her. Never with her.
He would not unleash the feral beast that wanted to devour this delectable woman.
Pull back, man.
She was an innocent maid trapped in a carriage with her employer.
Apologise for this unforgiveable breach of etiquette.
Stop the brougham and walk the rest of the way home. Perhaps the rain might cool my ardour.
Penny’s tongue darted out, tentatively tracing the edge of his upper lip.
Fuuuuuccck.
Liam forgot all about ending the kiss and concentrated on finding Penny’s pleasure. Mindful of her wounded cheek, he gentled his hands when every cell in his body demanded hot, hard, fast relief.
But she deserved so much more than hasty friction.
