Page 47 of Irresistible
She nodded. “That makes sense. But why not kiss me on the mouth?”
Oh God. Now he looked at her mouth, a focal point that often drew his attention. Her lips were always so pink and soft. Not that he knew if they were actually soft or not. They just appeared that way. And that was how he imagined them against his.
“I, well, it just seemed less…forward.”
“None of it is forward,” she said matter-of-factly, setting the book on a small table next to the fireplace. “You’ve said we may need to do things that married people do.”
“Would you have preferred I kiss you on the mouth?” Dougal wished he could take the question back. What good could come of it?
She shrugged, standing. “You know I’ve been kissed before.”
Yes, he knew that. Why hadn’t he kissed her? It would have been the perfect opportunity to finally see what she tasted like. Perhaps then he could stop thinking about it. About her.
Except, if he kissed her, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop with her mouth.
So you started with her neck? That makes no sense.
She’d walked into the dressing chamber while he’d been woolgathering. Now, she poked her head into the doorway, a hairpin in her hand. “I was just curious.”
He got up and walked to the dressing chamber, leaning against the doorframe, watching as she removed her wig. “Next time, I’ll kiss you on the mouth. Is that better?”
“It’s not better or worse. As I said, I was just curious.” She set the wig aside and uncoiled the braid from the back of her head. Then she unplaited the thick, light brown curls and shook the mass over her shoulders. Dougal stared, utterly captivated by her movements and her hair. His fingers itched to brush through it, and he longed to bury his face in the silken strands to inhale the sweet scent of her.
She’d tied it into a queue with a ribbon while he’d been fantasticating and now brushed past him to return to the bedchamber. Her arm had met his, and though layers of clothing separated them, he felt the connection deep into his bones. His body simmered with need as his cock started to rise.
This wasbad. He braced his hand against the wall and tipped his head down, blowing out a pent-up breath.
She popped back into the doorway, making him jump back from the wall. “I am quite angry with myself. I should have asked Mary which of the Wordsworth poems was her favorite. And now I can’t go back down because I’ve already taken my wig off.” She frowned. “I suppose I could put it back on.” She touched her head. “I just don’t think I can, not after liberating my scalp. You could go?”
He shook his head without even pondering the suggestion. “Absolutely not. You couldn’t bribe me to interrupt their ‘snuggle.’”
She grimaced. “You make a good point. I’ll ask her tomorrow. Still, I think I’ll take a look at the book now. Are you going to bed directly?”
“I need to change for bed and wash up.” Actually, what he really needed was for her to leave. His cock was not diminishing, and he feared he was going to have to satisfy his primal urges.
“Good, I can take some time to work on the letter without disturbing you.”
“Stay up as long as you like. You won’t bother me.” That was a bald-faced lie. Whether she slept, sat at the desk, or danced around the room, he would be bothered.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and that only increased his discomfort. When would she leave him alone? Apparently not soon, because she leaned against the doorframe as he’d done a few minutes before. “Are you still inclined to think they’re spies?”
Dougal exhaled. “Gil clearly has an affinity for all things French. He speaks French often and possesses a French-made gun designed upon one in Napoleon’s private collection. Then there is the coded letter. I’d say they look suspicious, but that’s all it is so far—suspicion. Until that letter is deciphered, I don’t think we can know for certain. I should also mention that we are trusting Mrs. Farr completely. She says she obtained that letter from the Chesmores’ private things, but what if she’s lying? Tomorrow, I must search the Chesmores’ suite.”
“You make excellent points,” she said. “It’s almost as if you’ve done this before.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a teasing smirk.
Why did she have to be so damned likeable? In addition to everything else: capable, adaptable…desirable.
“Do you need any assistance searching their rooms?” Jess asked.
“No, but I appreciate the offer. It will be better if you can keep them occupied.”
“That makes far more sense. I’ll leave you to it.” She flicked a glance over him and abruptly spun about, leaving the dressing chamber rather quickly.
Dougal leaned around the doorframe and saw her pick up the book of poems on the way to the desk. Sitting, she opened it and began to read.
Dougal withdrew into the dressing chamber and closed the door. There was a lock, but he hadn’t used it and didn’t think she had either. What was the point when they knew the other was in here and wouldn’t intrude? Even so, he locked it, setting the mechanism as quietly as possible.
He needed absolute privacy.
