Page 18 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

Chapter Seven

Percy hadn’t cometo Westfield to kiss Minta Nicholls.

And yet he found himself doing that very thing.

He was conscious of so many things. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from her skin. The feel of her fingers, warm on his arm. The softness of her lips against his.

Raising a hand, he cupped her cheek, wanting to touch the smooth skin. His lips slowly brushed against hers, an aching sweetness pouring through him. Her hand left his arm and both her fists clutched his lapels, pulling him closer to her. His pulse thumped wildly in his throat as the blood rushed to his ears. His heart pounded so loudly he feared she would hear it and laugh at him.

But it didn’t stop him. His lips continued to caress hers slowly as time slowed and then ceased to exist. All that mattered was this breathtakingly beautiful woman, who was far more than her pretty face and shapely curves.

He increased the pressure, his mouth asking more of her. His hand slid from her cheek to her nape and held her still. The other moved to the small of her back, moving her forward, anchoring her to him. Slowly, his tongue swept back and forth along the seam of her mouth and her lips parted, granted him entrance.

Into Heaven . . .

She tasted as sweet as she smelled. His tongue swept along hers, mating with it. He could sense her surprise and wondered if she had ever been kissed. If she had, certainly not like this.

He grew bolder, demanding more of her, heat filling him. His fingers pushed into her hair, tangling in it, even as his tongue tangled with hers. She caught on quickly and though he barely knew what he was doing, instinct led him and she joined in with ease. With eagerness. Little sighs came from her, urging him on.

He had never kissed a woman for this long. His previous kisses had only lasted a few seconds. This kiss went on and on. Or was it one kiss which blended into another and another? He didn’t know and didn’t care. He simply let it continue, holding her near, kissing her until he was breathless and knew she had to be, too.

Percy broke the kiss, his lips hovering just above hers, and then he sank his teeth into her full, bottom lip which had driven him to distraction. She gasped, her fingers tightening, as he sucked on the lip, wanting to take and take and take every bit of her. Then he released it, gliding his tongue across it, soothing it. She whimpered, causing a rush of power to roll through him.

His lips went to her jaw, nibbling along it and down her throat, nipping it with tiny love bites and once again comforting her with his tongue. He moved down the slender column of her throat, reaching the swell of her breast as it peeked from her gown. Wanting—no, needing—to taste her, he slid his tongue along the curve. She whimpered again, pulling him closer. He cupped her breast, feeling it swell in his palm, as he continued to stroke its curve with his tongue, her skin slightly salty and yet sweet at the same time.

Slowly, his thumb circled her nipple, causing her to become restless. After teasing her a bit longer, he brushed his thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble as her breath hitched. He swept it back and forth lazily, enjoying the little sounds she made in the back of her throat. He tweaked the nipple and she gasped.

What the hell was he doing?

Quickly, he released her. Minta Nicholls was as innocent as they came. Here they were, alone in a garden. And he was ready to push her gown down and suck on her breasts as if she were some paid whore.

Percy leaped to his feet and stammered, “I am s-s-sorry, Miss Nicholls. I . . . I . . . goodbye!”

He quit the garden, racing back the way he had come, avoiding the house and going directly to the stables where he had left his horse. Trying to compose himself, he slowed his pace, taking deep, even breaths.

A stable boy fetched his horse and Percy mounted, taking off at breakneck speed and riding that way for some minutes. Finally, he slowed the horse and dismounted, walking along the lane, trying to give himself time to collect his thoughts before Kingwood came into sight. He cursed aloud, berating himself.

Going to Westfield had been a terrible idea. He had already decided he would never have a chance with Minta Nicholls after their carriage ride together. He lacked in everything a woman like her needed. Yet somehow, he had found himself heading to see her today. The past week, his head had been full of thoughts of her, despite telling himself that she would never be interested in a fellow such as himself.

It were those thoughts which had driven him to Westfield this morning. When he learned that Lord and Lady Westlake were not at home, he almost turned away. Until the butler had told him that Miss Nicholls was present. Actually, in the garden. When he had gone there, he had spotted her at once and watched her at first from a distance, then moved closer. She was pulling weeds, a dreamy expression on her face.

Percy had never seen a more lovely sight.

Their conversation had not been stilted at all. In fact, he had enjoyed telling her about the Second Sons and the Three Cousins. He was delighted that Louisa wanted to take Minta under her wing and help her find friends and become established within theton.

Then talk had turned again to marriage. He supposed it must be inevitable since they both would be attending the Season with the same end result in mind. She was so wise, encouraging him to come out of his shell and to listen to his friends. She made him believe that he could have a future with a woman such as her.

That was why he had kissed her. The sweetest kisses of his life, now and in the future. Percy could not fathom kissing another woman the way he had Minta. Yet his head and heart both told him that he was not worthy of such a woman. That he was too damaged by the war. That if they did wed, she would discover how weak and tired the war had left him. Minta deserved the world. The best Polite Society had to offer. A man of talent, looks, and wealth, one who was as wise as she and would love her.

Percy didn’t think he could love. He believed that the ugliness of the war had seeped into his soul, burning it up until nothing was left. Minta may think she wouldn’t find love but he believed she would. She needed a man who could give her all his love. One who would treat her with kindness and respect. A man who would give everything to her, laying his soul bare.

He couldn’t let her see who he truly was. He knew he wasn’t worthy of her. No matter how great a temptation she proved to be, he vowed to avoid her both now and in the future.

Though he was scheduled to leave for London in a week’s time, he made the decision to leave today. Putting distance between him and Minta would be the first step in avoiding disaster.

Mounting his horse again, Percy galloped the rest of the way home. Arriving, he began issuing orders left and right, Bailey and Mrs. Bailey scurrying into action, Huston quickly packing, and Smith receiving final orders regarding the estate and harvest.

An hour later, he sat in his carriage as it turned from Kingwood in the opposite direction of Westfield and headed toward London.

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