Page 24 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. The other afternoon, pretending to measure me.”

“I did measure you. In fact, your trousers should be delivered tomorrow,” he said.

“But the way you touched me,” she said. “And then you kissed me.” She took another gulp of her drink.

“Yes, I did,” he said. He leaned back against the settee and stared openly at her.

“Why did you kiss me?”

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”

She leaned forward. “You were trying to frighten me away. Well, let me assure you that it isn’t going to work. Your kisses don’t frighten me in the least.”

“They don’t?” His voice was warm and decadent.

“No.” She had nearly crawled into his lap, she’d gotten so close to his face. “I rather enjoyed kissing you. What do you have to say to that?” From this vantage, she could see the precise shade of his eyes…that shimmering blue that could only be found in the tail feathers of peacocks.

“I enjoyed kissing you, as well.”

She hadn’t expected that response. “Oh.”

He pulled her fully onto his lap. “This is not gentlemanly behavior,” he said.

She giggled. “Yours or mine?”

“Either.” And then he lowered his mouth to hers.

His body felt warm and hard against her, the strength of his muscular frame was undeniable. The desire that seemed to course between them was a real and vibrant thing, as if it had taken a life all its own.

Iris knew better than to allow him such liberties, and she certainly knew better than to want him. She couldn’t afford to want him. Desire would only lead her down the road to affection and love and eventual heartache. He might be new to Society, but he was quite obviously skilled in romancing a woman, whereas she was a complete novice.

“I know I am nothing more than a diversion for you. A novelty. Perhaps you’ve not kissed many genteel ladies, or at least, not virginal ones.” She laughed and then hiccupped. Then she walked her fingers up his chest. “This is a risky game.”

Considering all of that, she shouldn’t allow him to kiss her and to run his hands so deliciously up her spine. She knew all those things. But when Merritt’s lips touched hers, all logic and good sense seemed to dissolve. Her body took over, and her body wanted him.

His kiss was firm and gentle, persuasive yet unrelenting. His tongue stroked hers, sending fissures of pleasure deep into her stomach. She relaxed against him, relishing the strength of his body, the hardened muscles, the very height and breadth of him.

Desire coiled through her, hot and needy, like a living, pulsing thing. Like a separate entity over which she had no control. And then, as abruptly as he’d pulled her to him, he set her aside.

“No,” he said swiftly and came to his feet. “This arrangement between us is not going to work.” He swiped a hand across his mouth then gave a brief nod. “Good evening, Lady Iris.”

Then he was gone. One moment he was kissing and touching her in a way she’d never imagined, making her feel things she couldn’t have fathomed, and then he was gone, leaving her cold and confused. It was almost sobering.

…

What the hell was he doing?

He wished he’d brought his horse instead of a carriage so he could have doused himself with the cold evening rain. But he was resigned to riding in the confined rig and thinking about everything that had just transpired. How she’d been so warm and willing in his arms. He was not particularly accustomed to virginal ladies, but he’d assumed they would be coy, more guarded with their virtue.

Lady Iris’s behavior had bordered on brazen, and the combination of her naïveté and boldness was intoxicating. Granted, she had been the one intoxicated, but she’d asked him about why he’d kissed her and then boldly proclaimed she’d enjoyed it. And like a cat offered milk, he’d leaped at the chance to have it again. He’d foolishly pulled her into his arms, pretending that it was to frighten her but knowing full well it was because he wanted the little minx in a way he’d never wanted another woman.

Having a relationship with Iris Bennington aside from this ridiculous bargain was out of the question. He had promised himself long ago that even though he had claimed the title, he would never slide fully into the role of an aristocrat. That meant never getting married…certainly not to a woman of Society.

Before now, he had never been tempted.Oh, but Iris was damn near irresistible.She seemed so different from other ladies of her rank. She had more substance, more spine, than any woman he’d ever met, gently bred or not.

Yet that made her more dangerous.

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