Page 34 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Dartford straightened, his attention fixed on her. He reached out and touched a lock of her hair that must have come loose. “Perhaps you do need a wig,” he murmured. “I’m happy to procure it for you and have it delivered.”
It would make things simpler if he could do that. But right now she was thinking that nothing about this was simple. Sitting here with him touching her hair was…complicated. “That would be exceptionally helpful. Thank you.”
He didn’t release her hair. If anything, he moved a bit closer. “Sometimes I forget there’s a beautiful woman hiding beneath this disguise.”
Heat rushed up her neck and flooded her cheeks. “You flatter me. I am not beautiful.” No one had ever called her that. “My chin is too pronounced, and my eyes are squinty.”
His mouth curved up. “Your eyes are lovely. They remind me of a forest—all dark and mysterious—just waiting to be discovered. And your chin”—his gaze dipped to her mouth—“is just the right size to support that incredible mouth of yours.”
Oh dear, the fluttery feeling returned tenfold. “You shouldn’t say such things.” She whispered the words, but they sounded deafening in the dim cocoon of the coach.
“I shouldn’t do many things. Probably.” His head lowered and before she could think about his intent, his lips covered hers in a delicate, delicious kiss.
The sheep farmer’s son’s kiss had been nothing like this. Her heart raced, her stomach cartwheeled over itself, and her flesh tingled.
He released her hair and cradled the side of her neck as his mouth played over hers, coaxing, teasing, arousing. He pulled back slightly. “Like that,” he murmured. “I definitely shouldn’t do that.”
She let go of her hat and pulled at his lapel. “No.” She kissed him this time, surrendering to the forbidden urge inside her. One or two kisses didn’t matter. One or two kisses werenice. Didn’t she deserve one or two kisses?
His hand curled around her neck, and he tilted his head, slanting his lips over hers. She sighed against his mouth, and he took advantage, sliding his tongue along her lower lip. She vaguely remembered tongues being part of that long-ago kiss and suddenly wanted to revisit that sensation.
She gripped his coat tighter as she opened her mouth, inviting him inside. A deep groan sounded from somewhere in his chest, firing her excitement. She slid her hands up and clasped his neck as his other hand came around her waist. His hand splayed over the top of her hip, and he pulled her toward him, turning her on the seat. Her hat slipped to the floor.
His tongue swept into her mouth in deep, lush strokes. A singular and unexpected thrill swirled through her—it wasdesire. She held tight as he kissed her, and she supposed she kissed him back. She copied his movements, sliding her tongue against his, moving her lips, and clutching him as if she would float away and drown if he let her go.
The coach came to a sudden and shocking stop. They broke apart, both of them breathing heavily. Dartford blinked at her and swore under his breath.
“I apologize,” she said, covering her mouth in horror. How fast he must think her—
“Donotapologize,” he said sharply, but not in anger. “I was just surprised… I forgot that you look like a man right now.” He snatched his hat from the floor and crammed it on his head. “I’ll be damned if you feel like one, though,” he muttered.
The heat that had fled when the coach had stopped rushed back over her. He’d said she was beautiful. He’d kissed her as if shewasbeautiful.
He reached down and plucked up her hat, then thrust it toward her. “Here. I need to pay the driver.” He bounded out of the cab as if it had burst into flames.
Again she felt a pang of distress. He’d said she shouldn’t apologize, and he’d seemed to like kissing her… But he seemed to regret it just the same.
Lucy made sure her hair was tucked up into her hat. She straightened her coat and pulled her already-high collar up beneath her jawline. Her knuckles brushed the faux beard, which she could feel even through her gloves. Yes, she looked like a man. How odd that must have been for him.
His face appeared in the doorway. “Are you coming?”
She half expected him to offer her his hand, but of course he couldn’t. She came up off the seat. “Yes.”
He stood to the side as she stepped down. The coach pulled away almost immediately.
“I’m afraid I’m the one who must apologize,” Dartford said. He looked everywhere but at her. “I don’t know what came over me. You may be assured that won’t happen again.”
Yes, he regretted it. She was certain. And while she knew he shouldn’t have done it, she was glad that he had. Not that she planned to tell him that. “Thank you. We’ll go on as if thatdidn’thappen.” She picked at an invisible speck on her coat—anything to divert her attention from his horrid awkwardness. “Do you think you can procure a wig tomorrow so that I may have it before the phaeton races?”
He nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll make it a priority.”
He looked at her then, his gaze dark and intense, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to regard him the same way. She hoped so. She didn’t want to develop a tendre for any man, let alone this one. She simply needed to keep her focus. Maybe she ought to think of him as a brother. She nearly laughed out loud at that thought. Then she wanted to cringe. No, definitely not a brother.
“I’ll just stand here until you’re inside.” He turned his head, once again moving his focus to anything but her.
“Of course. Thank you again for your assistance this evening.” She pivoted to go into the house, but stopped when he spoke.
“We race in Hyde Park at nine o’clock. How do you plan to leave without your grandmother seeing you?”
