Page 21 of The Marquess and the Maiden

He grinned.

She exhaled loudly, quite obviously annoyed she’d revealed something to him. “You are a beast.”

He braced one hand on the wall behind her, put his body close enough to her that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin, smell her subtle floral scent. She boldly looked up at him, no fear. Her eyes darkened, and her lips parted.

“Are you going to kiss me again?”

He chuckled. “Do you want me to?”

Her breath caught. “Of course not.”

“I disagree. I think you do.” He took his hand off the wall and traced a finger down her cheek.

Her breath stuttered.

“Sweet Harriet, I think you desperately want me to kiss you.” His thumb traced over her bottom lip.

She subconsciously dipped her tongue out to wet her lips and instead licked across his finger.

And it took every ounce of his control to not oblige her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Proving my point.”

She swallowed visibly. “Which is?”

He let his gaze bore into her. Moved his body close enough that she could not doubt his arousal. He ground it against her to make certain.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

“That I can want something desperately and still walk away.” He shoved away from her then and left the room. He had to get some distance between them else he would toss her down on those mattresses and have his way with her.

…

Harriet squeaked. There was no other way to describe the noise that came from her throat. She closed her eyes, kept her back pressed to the wall, and concentrated on her breathing.

Prove his point indeed. He’d been in perfect control; it was she who had lost it. She never yelled at people. She had never, not even once, allowed something to slip about the Ladies of Virtue. Yet she’d buckled under his gaze. What was it about him that seemed to bring out her worst qualities? Making her angry and frustrated and…wanton.

Her body still hummed with anticipation. Of what, she wasn’t certain, but she’d wanted more. Wanted him to touch her, kiss her. The feel of his arousal pressed against her had nearly been her undoing. She’d forgotten that her maid was in the other room. Harriet had wanted to open herself to him, wrap her legs around his thighs and let him do whatever he could to ease the ache he’d started in her core.

She had to find him a wife. And soon. Before she lost her senses completely and did something ridiculous. Like fall in love with the Marquess of Davenport.

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