Page 44 of If the Duke Dares
“You’re touching my head,” he said softly, the edge of his mouth lifting. “You tell me.”
She brushed her thumb over the edge of his hairline. He wastooreal. And too close. And too…tempting.
“Move away now, or I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered, his lips nearly touching hers.
Persephone couldn’t retreat. She was utterly entranced by him. Her hand caressed down the side of his face, cupping his cheek as his lips met hers.
The connection was divine. His mouth moved slowly over hers, teasing and coaxing. Soft kisses that aroused her and proved what she’d expected, that he was exemplary at this task.
His head angled, and the kisses grew longer, deeper, his lips opening against hers. She copied what he did, thinking that whatever she’d learned from past kisses was surely substandard. Then his tongue slipped past her lips, and she met it with her own. A sound reverberated low in his throat. His hand moved to her hip.
“Your Grace?”
The coachman had returned.
Persephone jumped in surprise. Acton clasped her hip. “Careful. Don’t hit your head,” he murmured, smiling. This was a different smile. It contained his usual amusement and cheer, but there was also a sultry quality, a promise of what could have come next had they not been interrupted.
She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. Probably both.
Acton opened the door partway as Persephone settled herself on the other seat. “Found the farrier, then?”
“I did. Hopefully, this rain will let up shortly. Then he can replace the shoe, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Well done, thank you.” Acton closed the door and leaned back against the squab, his gaze trained on her. “I suppose now we just wait. What should we do?”
Persephone was fairly certain what he wanted. She’d glimpsed the rigid length of him in his breeches. She wasn’t going to allow more kissing—or anything else. “You said you wanted to eat.” She reached for the basket next to him and pulled it onto her lap. She’d ride all the way to Bath with it there as a barrier between them. “Let’s eat.”
“What if I’d rather continue kissing you?”
She couldn’t look at him. Opening the basket, she pulled out a small hand pie. “That was a mistake. Please let’s not discuss it.” She shot him a dark look.
He exhaled. “I hope you won’t regret that.”
What a pompous thing to say.
She hoped she wouldn’t regret it either.
Chapter11
Every moment since kissing Persey passed as if it were a week. Between that sensation and the very real delays caused by the horse losing his shoe and the subsequent rain complicating the replacement, they did not arrive in Bath until the sun had disappeared into the horizon.
It was also past dinner, not that he was hungry, because every time he thought of Persey’s lips beneath his and her tongue against his, he ate something from the basket to distract himself. It was good that they’d arrived, because he was fairly certain they were out of food.
Eating also served to divert his thoughts from his roguish behavior. For all his declarations that he wanted to change, that hewouldchange, when presented with the chance to make a choice other than surrendering to a kiss, he’d done what he’d always done—behaved like a rogue.
“I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” he said, breaking the silence that had reigned for much of the journey. She’d barely looked at him since they’d kissed.
“You don’t need to.”
“I do. I behaved just as you expected, and I was trying so hard not to.”
“I am equally to blame,” she said, glancing at him very briefly. “Let us forget it happened.”
Acton would never do that. The memory of her lips would stay with him until his dying day.
Looking out the window, Acton recognized the spires of the abbey. He hadn’t spent much time in Bath, probably because his mother and sisters had lived here and his father preferred London. He knew his mother had a house in St. James’s Square which was very near the Crescent where Persey said her aunt lived.
The closer they got to the Crescent, the more unsettled Acton felt. He had no idea when he would see Persey again. Orifhe would see her again.
