Page 11 of When She Was Naughty

Chloe’s lips melted under his. He truly did know what he was doing. She might have had her first kiss from a boy, but this was her first kiss from aman.A delightfully strong, determined man with sensual tension coiled in his body but tenderness in his kiss.

Could this be real? Was it actually happening? In lieu of pinching herself, she squeezed the ring in her hand until the diamonds bit into her palm like a row of teeth.

With her free hand, she touched his face. His jaw was smooth-shaven, but when she caressed his cheek, the faintest rasp of whiskers scraped her palm. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, weaving her fingers into his dark hair and letting the heavy locks run through her fingers. So much softer than she’d expected.

A masculine groan rose in his chest. The sound sent a thrill racing through her veins. He gathered her silk gown in fistfuls, pulling her body close to his.

She was breathless. His hair might be soft, but the rest of him? The rest of him was decidedly not so.

Even as a relative innocent, Chloe knew he wanted more from her than a kiss. She also knew he would take nothing she didn’t freely offer. She felt fiercely desired, and at the same time, protected.

Cherished.

Safe.

So she surrendered to the kiss, giving herself over to exhilarating sensation without the slightest fear or shame.

He explored her mouth with confidence and skill, and though she hadn’t his experience, she tried to be a quick study. They traded soft kisses, then searching ones. Giving and taking. And oh, the teasing. She was delighted to learn that teasing was part of this, too. She did have a talent for teasing.

As he pressed kisses to her neck, she arched and gasped with delight. Each slight brush of his lips ignited a wildfire of sensation.

She’d always prided herself on appreciating life’s smallest pleasures. But while she’d been paying attention to bluebells and miniature teacakes and faint breezes in her hair, she’d overlooked what should have been unmissable. The six-foot-tall, broad-shouldered, classically sculpted demigod of wicked kisses who had been standing right there all along.

She’d been nonsensical.

He lifted his head and looked down at her, breathing hard. “You’re laughing.”

“A little.”

“At me, I suppose.”

“No. At myself. It’s nothing. Carry on.”

“Carry on, you say.” He shook his head. “If only I knew how. You will be the end of me.”

“Drat. I forgot to be disappointing.”

“That was a doomed effort from the start.”

“I’m a bit rattled myself, you know. A mere hour ago I was convinced that you thought me a nuisance. Suddenly you’re speaking to me of love and pressing jewels into my hand. And now I’m reeling from that kiss.”

“I warned you about the kiss.”

“You needn’t gloat about it.” She pushed a stray hair from her brow. “It’s all so confusing. I don’t know what to say.”

“You say ‘no,’ Chloe. Unless you wish to marry me, live beside me always, share my bed nightly, bear my children, grow old with me, and eventually be buried at my side under one headstone.” He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “Unless you love me, you say ‘no.’ And I will never trouble you again.”

She couldn’t make her lips form the word. It was so unfair of him to demand an answer like this. She couldn’t possibly tell him ‘yes,’ and it didn’t feel wise to say ‘perhaps.’ But something wouldn’t let her say ‘no,’ either.

There had to be some other word available.

She put her hand over his where he cradled her cheek. “Justin.”

“Chloe!” The call rang out from the front portico. “Chloe, is that you out there?”

Oh, Lord. Her mother.

“I’ve been searching all over,” Mama said, minding her steps as she made her way across the frost-slicked paving stones. “It’s time for the caroling to begin, and ever since Lionel’s voice changed we’re lacking in sopranos. Why on earth are you out here? You’ll catch your death of—” Her mother stopped short, some ten paces away.

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