Page 12 of The Mistletoe Countess
That was singly the most invigorating moment Grace had ever known. Her entire body hummed alive, warmed by some internal light radiating heat through every fiber of skin.
Her eyes fluttered open and met Lord Astley’s somewhat horrified expression. The moonlight gave him a mysterious, vampire-like appearance, which reminded her to rereadDraculaat her earliest convenience.
She blinked a few more times to clear her head, then glanced around the room, her imagination pulling all the pieces together. He’d meant to meet her sister here.
A clandestine meeting? A shiver incited gooseflesh at the enticing thought. How romantic!
She raised her fingers to her lips, investigating their reaction to her first kiss as her breath continued to pulse in halts and stops. “You…you didn’t mean to do that, I don’t think.”
He shook his head a solid five seconds before any words emerged. “Indeed no.”
“You thought…I was my sister?”
“Yes.” His answer scratched through ragged breaths like hers. So perhaps the intensity of the reaction was normal.
Her gaze dropped back to his lips, and hers tingled afresh. Kisses told a tale of Lord Astley she’d not anticipated. Tenderness, passion. Her breath grew short again as something in her awakened to the awareness of their intimate encounter. Not nervous, exactly. She pressed her hand against her stomach, her face warming. “Well, I would convey your message to her, but I don’t believe it would have the same impact.”
A shaft of air burst from his lips, a sound between a cough and a laugh. “You are positively unexpected.”
“Obviously.” She attempted a grin, but her lips tingled so much she wasn’t sure of the effect. Oh my, what a glorious endeavor. “But a secret rendezvous is a perfectly amorous undertaking. I didn’t take you as the sort.”
“The…the sort?” He still seemed utterly discombobulated.
“To indulge with such determined passion and spontaneity. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. I’m certain Lillias will find every bit of it breathtaking.”
“Are you not disarmed in the least by this turn of events?” He narrowed those dark eyes of his and surveyed her from top to bottom as if she’d gone mad.
Ridiculous man! He was the one who’d kissed the wrong woman, not her.
“I kissed you as if you were my fiancée!” He pinched his eyes closed and shook his head. “My sister would have puddled to the floor in a mortified heap if such an exchange happened to her.”
“Well, it was quite a shock!” Her lips still prickled in appreciation. “But why waste such a beautiful blunder on mortification? And what an unpleasant word that is.Mortification.No wonder the preacher says it with a scowl on his face. Oh no, I would never place the wordmortificationand your lovely kiss into the same sphere, let alone the same sentence.”
“I mistakenly kiss you in a dark room in a way to possibly ruin your reputation and you’re concerned about the wordmortification?”His brow furrowed and he raised his hands in exasperation. “You really are the most peculiar creature.”
Well, that certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been called peculiar, but the way his deep tones spoke the word, in slight fascination, didn’t make it sound as unkind as how others had used it. “Come now, my lord, it was an honest mistake, and I was just pondering how the dastardly Mr. Rochester must have kissed Jane Eyre when he declared his love for her, so when you came out of the darkness and swept me into your arms, I was fairly certain my imagination had gotten away with me, which isn’t an uncommon occurrence, you understand, but never quite so”—she slid her finger over her lips again—“tactile. I’d always considered a kiss to be an extraordinary thing. I’m so glad you proved me right.”
“I offer my sincerest apologies.” He released a slow breath and took a step back. “I would never have presumed… Wait. This was your first kiss?”
“Well of course! You don’t suppose I’m off kissing men on a regular basis, do you? Fantasy and reality are not the same thing, and despite my love of fiction, I don’t confuse them. Often.” Her attention drifted back to his mouth. A well-formed mouth, now that she thought about it. “We shouldn’t tell Lillias about this. Even though it was an honest mistake, she’d find the idea—”
“Intolerable.”
“I was going to sayuncomfortable,butintolerablemay be better, or perhaps even such a delightful sounding word asreprehensible.”
He stared at her to the point his very strong chin slacked a bit.
“Please don’t look so distraught. I’m unharmed, as you see.” She gave his arm a stiff pat. “If it’s any consolation, I can tell you with certainty my sister will enjoy your kisses. I can’t think of one woman who wouldn’t, but I suppose we shouldn’t be caught in this dark room alone.”
He blinked to attention. “Indeed.” He took her by the arm and gently guided her to the doorway. “Perhaps you should rejoin the party first?”
Grace shook her head. “I can sneak through the breakfast room and then the servants’ corridor, and return to the party without anyone seeing us together.”
“Please accept my most ardent apologies, Miss Grace.” His dark gaze found hers again, so filled with remorse she gave his arm another touch, less stiff this time.
“No harm done, my lord, but do promise me one thing.”
He nodded.
