Page 30 of Beauty and the Thief

“Don’t,” she whispered

“Don’t shock you?”

“Don’t touch me like that. Release my hand.”

“You’re the one holding mine, lass.”

With an embarrassed huff, she pulled her hand away and began to gather the hat and gloves she’d removed. “I think we should end for the day.”

“Good idea. Wouldn’t want your first kiss to come from me.”

Her chin jerked up. “You would not be my first kiss, sir.”

He folded his arms across his chest and gave her a skeptical look.

“I have been kissed before,” she insisted.

He arched a brow.

“Oh, very well! It was a kiss on the cheek, but that’s exactly why I find you so confusing.”

He furrowed his brow. “Now I’m the one who’s flummoxed.”

“Because men don’t want to kiss me. They rarely look at me twice. I don’t understand why you insist on...flirting with me!”

He shook his head. If she thought men didn’t notice her, she was gravely mistaken. He didn’t think a man could help but notice her. That initial attraction might last but only until she began giving orders. Most men were intimidated by a woman like that. Not Cal. He liked a strong woman, a woman he could spar with—in bed and out.

“Lass, you have it all wrong, you do. I’m not the only man who’s wanted to kiss you. I’m just the only one brave enough to tell you.”

“Are you saying I scare men away?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Not any man worthy of you.”

She took this in and seemed to consider it. “Then you think you are worthy of me.”

He shrugged and gave her his most charming smile. “Well, now, that’s for you to decide, but if I do kiss you, best you know that’s as far as it goes. I didn’t come here for bedsport.”

Her jaw dropped. “And you think I want bedsport with you?”

“You might if I kiss you.”

“If you think I will ever kiss you or share a bed with you, you are completely deluded.” She smashed her hat on her head and marched off without even bothering with the gloves.

“I’m glad we settled that,” he called after her.

“Idiot,” he heard her mutter as she slammed the door. Cal stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned.

A moment later the door opened, and Mr. Tattle entered. “What was the matter with Miss Murray?” he asked. “The hour isn’t up.”

“She’s practicing on her own. She’s a natural, Mr. Tattle, and she’s got the Irish temper to go with the accent.”

“Did you do something to raise her ire, Mr. Kelly?”

“Me?” He put a hand to his heart. “What would I do?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Kelly, but instead of angering her you would be wise to find a way to get along.”

“Why is that?”

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