Page 65 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
“I suppose I should be off.”
“I suppose you should.”
Only she didn’t want to leave. She wanted another few minutes with him, another few hours. Longer.
But he took charge of the matter, moved up to the coach, totally ignoring the footman, and held out his hand to her. Neither were wearing gloves. The salt water had ruined hers. She placed her hand in his, welcomed the closing of his fingers around it, wondering why it was that the merest of touches from him could send sensations rioting throughout her.
Holding her gaze, he brought her fingers to his lips, pressed his mouth against the middle two, allowed it to linger, hot and moist. Then his tongue gave the tiniest of licks across the narrowest expanse of her skin, and her knees nearly buckled, pleasure tightened her belly, and it was as though his tongue had dared to touch the most intimate part of her. The intimacy of the moment, the action, made her profoundly regret there could be no more between them than friendship, that he could not call upon her, that his courtship would be met with fierce resistance. Her birth determined her destiny to marry a titled gentleman. His decided that no matter how high he rose, he would always fall short of being considered good enough for the daughter of an earl. No matter how that daughter felt.
She was barely aware of his mouth leaving her fingers, of his handing her up into the carriage.
“Safe journey home, Lady Aslyn,” he said. Then he released his hold on her and was striding away, although she felt that he hadn’t let go at all, that he’d somehow managed to anchor her more securely to him.
While she managed to get to her bedchamber and changed into dinner attire without her guardians any wiser concerning her day, she lost some of her joy when she strolled into the parlor and discovered Kip waiting with his parents.
He approached, bussed a quick kiss over her cheek. “Aslyn.”
Where was the warmth from him, from her? Why did she feel naught but cold?
“How was your day at the museums?” the duchess asked.
Museums? Ah, yes, her lie. “Lovely.”
Kip wrinkled his brow. “Mother mentioned you were spending the day withthe Cats?”
“Ladies Katharine and Catherine. Just a silly moniker I gave them.”
“Do I know them?”
“Probably not. They debuted this Season, were snatched up rather quickly.”
“By whom?”
“I’m not quite sure.” She needed to stop spinning before she toppled into discovery. “I am sure, however, that I’m quite famished. Shall we go into dinner?”
In hindsight, she should have claimed a sudden megrim and returned to her bedchamber. She’d never known such awkwardness at the dining table.
“Have you two decided when the wedding is to take place?” the duchess asked.
Kip looked at her, studied her, but she kept her face impassive, unwilling to give her thoughts away, willing to let him squirm until he told his parents the truth of their situation. “We’re still discussing it,” he finally said.
“After all this time, I’d have thought you’d be rushing to the altar,” the duchess said.
“As you say,” Aslyn began, “it’s been a long time. I see no need to rush.”
“But—”
“Darling, let them move at their own speed,” the duke said. “They’ll have years together.”
Aslyn very much doubted it. “I shall be going to an orphanage tomorrow.” She held Kip’s gaze. “Perhaps you’d care to join me.”
His brow furrowed. “What interest have I in an orphanage?”
“I thought you might have an interest in the orphans.”
He looked at his parents, looked back at her. “No, I haven’t.”
Because he had no interest in anyone other than himself. How had she not noticed it before?
