Page 99 of Saving Miss Pratt

“If he has experience, yes.”

She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “Would he, do you think? He’s a curate after all.”

The conversation had become ludicrous. How could he be discussing such matters with her as if they were negotiating the price of a gelding at Tattersall’s? “He’s a man, Priscilla. But I suppose in the throes of passion he might not notice.” Hehadlost his mind.

She squared her shoulders and pinned him with those incredible blue eyes. “I’ll take that chance.”

He ran a hand down his face, the sigh escaping his lungs. “Go home, Priscilla.”

“How can you be so selfish!”

He darted a glance down at the floor, expecting her to stamp her dainty foot. “I’m protecting you.”

She glared at him. “Why? Because you care more than you will admit? What are you afraid of?”

Where all her pleading and rationalizations had failed, his resistance snapped with her accusation of cowardice.

Closing the distance between them in one long stride, he grasped her upper arms and lowered his mouth to hers in one searing kiss.

CHAPTER 26—THE SURRENDER

All rational thought left Priscilla when Timothy captured her mouth with his. Different from his other kisses, an urgency—a need—imbued the way he kissed her, as if his very soul was parched and her lips held the life-giving water he craved.

And here she’d thought the previous kisses were glorious.

Silly girl.

She grew faint, her knees weak and unable to support her. And contrary to the persona she’d presented in the past, she was not a woman prone to swoon.

The intensity of his grip relaxed on her arms, and he inched one hand up, trailing along her shoulder, her neck, and finally resting against her cheek. Her skin purred with pleasure from his touch.

His mouth left hers, and she immediately mourned the loss.

Soft puffs of his breath brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Do you wish to continue?”

Words failed her, and she could only nod.

“Come with me.” Taking her hand, he led her from the room.

Was he escorting her to the door? “Where are we going?”

A lopsided grin spread across his face. “Somewhere more comfortable. Surely you don’t wish your first time to be on the desk of my study?”

“Oh.”Ninny.Had the kiss jumbled her brain so thoroughly? A blush scalded her face. When Mrs. Wilson explained relations between a man and a woman, Priscilla never imagined the act could be performed anywhere other than a bed. But Timothy’s comment opened new possibilities.

Of course, marriage to Mr. Netherborne would not likely afford any opportunity to explore those possibilities. He seemed exceptionally traditional.

Which was rather disappointing.

Forcing any thought of her dreary future with Mr. Netherborne from her mind, her gaze darted nervously about the hallway. “What of the servants? Will they see us?”

“You need not worry. I keep a small staff, and they know how to be discreet. Besides, at this hour, they’re all abed.”

Bed. Heat burned her face anew as she followed Timothy into a modest bedchamber.

Light from candles on the mantle and on a nightstand cast the room in a warm glow. A small fire in the hearth eased the chill of the late spring night, and a sizzling pop greeted her. Servants had pulled back the counterpane of the bed in preparation for Timothy’s slumber.

With his hand resting upon the doorknob, he faced her. “Are you certain this is what you wish? Say the word, and I’ll escort you safely home.”

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