Read Online A Gift for Guile (The Thief-takers) by Alissa Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alissa Johnson
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hotel?”
His gaze followed her pale fingers as they slid through the black velvet strips. For some reason, he found the sight absolutely mesmerizing. “Er…Yes. Unless you’ve other ideas?”
She shook her head. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes.” Her smile froze and her eyes went round. “Not we. I didn’t mean we , as in you and me. It was more the royal we. I… That is…” She cleared her throat, set her bonnet carefully in her lap, and then stared at the drapes as if she could see straight through them. “You’ll catch a cold.”
Something cold was exactly what he needed at present. Something cold and very distant. Far, far away from the temptation that had suddenly and most unexpectedly presented itself.
Because he could picture what Esther had suggested. He could picture it perfectly . Her small hands working the buttons on his coat. Those agile fingers loosening the knot of his necktie. The slide of her palms beneath his coat.
Samuel shifted uncomfortably. Strictly speaking, this wasn’t the first unseemly thought he’d had about Esther. She was a pretty woman, and he was a man with a pulse. It was only natural that he’d thought of her in that manner before. Rather frequently, truth be told.
But this was different than a passing fantasy any man might have about any attractive woman.
He wasn’t any man. She wasn’t any woman. And this wasn’t about her beauty.
It was about her .
He, Sir Samuel Brass, very suddenly, and rather desperately, wanted Esther Walker-Bales.
And he bloody well knew better.
She was his friend’s wife’s younger sister. Which made her no relation to him whatsoever, but still the closest thing to a sister he’d ever had. More importantly, she was a menace. She was fascinating and beguiling and an absolute world of trouble, an ocean of aggravation. Every moment he spent in her company was a moment spent tempting disaster.
At that particular moment, he simply didn’t care.
He leaned across the carriage, slipped a hand around her neck, and brought her forward for a kiss.
* * *
It was Esther’s first kiss.
And for the rest of her life, she would lament the fact that she somehow managed to miss the first two seconds of it.
It was just so unexpected. One minute she’d been sitting there, wishing she could pull her veil down to hide her blush, and the next minute, Samuel was kissing her. It took a moment for her brain to catch up, and then another for her to decide if she cared for the sudden turn of events.
At the three second mark, she decided she did. She liked it very much indeed.
She’d never been so deliciously aware of someone before, of every breath and every movement. Samuel’s form filled her vision. When she closed her eyes, the sensation of his mouth moving over hers crowded her mind.
He kissed her gently, slowly, as if testing her response, and she followed suit, matching his movements and pace. Without experience to draw from, she used him as a guide, being careful when he was careful, turning her head when he turned his. The kiss took on a lovely dreamlike quality, a hazy and decadent game of follow the leader. And she was only too happy to play along, to enjoy the slow chase.
It was exciting and magical and perfectly wonderful.
Until Samuel pulled away and looked at her as if she was someone he’d never seen before. “You’ve never done this,” he murmured.
She gaped at him. Simply gaped. Of all the things that might have been said in the moment, she could not imagine a less flattering, less romantic bit of commentary. Except maybe, Drat. I thought you were someone else.
She leaned away from him. “I apologize for my lack of skill.”
“Don’t apologize. Nothing wrong with it.”
That was an improvement by only the slimmest of very slim margins.
He leaned toward her again, but she put her hand on his chest and pushed him back.
“Have you not kissed a woman before?” Because if this was the way he went about it,
His gaze followed her pale fingers as they slid through the black velvet strips. For some reason, he found the sight absolutely mesmerizing. “Er…Yes. Unless you’ve other ideas?”
She shook her head. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes.” Her smile froze and her eyes went round. “Not we. I didn’t mean we , as in you and me. It was more the royal we. I… That is…” She cleared her throat, set her bonnet carefully in her lap, and then stared at the drapes as if she could see straight through them. “You’ll catch a cold.”
Something cold was exactly what he needed at present. Something cold and very distant. Far, far away from the temptation that had suddenly and most unexpectedly presented itself.
Because he could picture what Esther had suggested. He could picture it perfectly . Her small hands working the buttons on his coat. Those agile fingers loosening the knot of his necktie. The slide of her palms beneath his coat.
Samuel shifted uncomfortably. Strictly speaking, this wasn’t the first unseemly thought he’d had about Esther. She was a pretty woman, and he was a man with a pulse. It was only natural that he’d thought of her in that manner before. Rather frequently, truth be told.
But this was different than a passing fantasy any man might have about any attractive woman.
He wasn’t any man. She wasn’t any woman. And this wasn’t about her beauty.
It was about her .
He, Sir Samuel Brass, very suddenly, and rather desperately, wanted Esther Walker-Bales.
And he bloody well knew better.
She was his friend’s wife’s younger sister. Which made her no relation to him whatsoever, but still the closest thing to a sister he’d ever had. More importantly, she was a menace. She was fascinating and beguiling and an absolute world of trouble, an ocean of aggravation. Every moment he spent in her company was a moment spent tempting disaster.
At that particular moment, he simply didn’t care.
He leaned across the carriage, slipped a hand around her neck, and brought her forward for a kiss.
* * *
It was Esther’s first kiss.
And for the rest of her life, she would lament the fact that she somehow managed to miss the first two seconds of it.
It was just so unexpected. One minute she’d been sitting there, wishing she could pull her veil down to hide her blush, and the next minute, Samuel was kissing her. It took a moment for her brain to catch up, and then another for her to decide if she cared for the sudden turn of events.
At the three second mark, she decided she did. She liked it very much indeed.
She’d never been so deliciously aware of someone before, of every breath and every movement. Samuel’s form filled her vision. When she closed her eyes, the sensation of his mouth moving over hers crowded her mind.
He kissed her gently, slowly, as if testing her response, and she followed suit, matching his movements and pace. Without experience to draw from, she used him as a guide, being careful when he was careful, turning her head when he turned his. The kiss took on a lovely dreamlike quality, a hazy and decadent game of follow the leader. And she was only too happy to play along, to enjoy the slow chase.
It was exciting and magical and perfectly wonderful.
Until Samuel pulled away and looked at her as if she was someone he’d never seen before. “You’ve never done this,” he murmured.
She gaped at him. Simply gaped. Of all the things that might have been said in the moment, she could not imagine a less flattering, less romantic bit of commentary. Except maybe, Drat. I thought you were someone else.
She leaned away from him. “I apologize for my lack of skill.”
“Don’t apologize. Nothing wrong with it.”
That was an improvement by only the slimmest of very slim margins.
He leaned toward her again, but she put her hand on his chest and pushed him back.
“Have you not kissed a woman before?” Because if this was the way he went about it,
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