Read Online An Invitation to Scandal by Kelly Boyce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kelly Boyce
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passed and he did not hear from her, he realized he had overestimated her feelings.
He deepened the kiss, expecting her to shove him away. Slap him. Finally see reason and demand he escort her from this horrid place.
She did none of those things.
Instead, she tried to keep up with the hunger of his kiss. Something in the way she innocently bumbled her way through it touched him. Deeply. In a place he no longer thought available to him. And that was most surprising of all.
Instinctively, he gentled the kiss. The lesson he’d meant to teach her had turned on its ear, and he realized he still had much to learn. The control he’d thought he possessed over his passions dangled from a very tenuous string, and this woman—this woman that reviled him—seemed able to pluck it until it vibrated painfully, bringing all his nerves to life.
If he had any sense at all, he would let her go. End this.
But he had no sense. Not where she was concerned.
He explored the confines of her sweet mouth with his tongue. She tasted of champagne. Heat seared through him as she tentatively did the same. Soft and willing as a courtesan, what she lacked in skill, she made up for with innocent exuberance.
He had meant to frighten her. Instead, he was the one who was frightened. Frightened by his body’s response to her, by how good it felt to hold her in his arms, the intoxicating feel of her body pressed against his own.
He had once dreamed of this. Once, a long time ago.
Much had changed since then.
With great reluctance, he lifted is mouth from hers, stopping only to drop one last, quick kiss on her swollen lips.
He reached up and straightened her mask their passion had knocked askew. “Forgive me,” he breathed.
For a long moment, she said nothing. He stood silently, still holding her, feeling the vibrations of their heartbeats where their bodies met. She had been as affected as he. It gave him little solace.
“I will see you to your carriage,” he said.
Still, she did not move. The darkness did not allow him to see her face, but when she spoke; her voice came in a quiet whisper.
“Are you married, my lord?”
The question surprised him. For a brief moment, he had forgotten she did not know who he was. The fact she did not know who she had kissed saddened him. “No.”
“When you do marry, do you expect to have an affection for your wife?”
He thought of Miss Caldwell, her perfect beauty, her perfect manners, her perfect sense of propriety.
“No,” he finally answered. He did not love Eugenie Caldwell. He did not even know if he liked her. He did not know her at all. How did you get to know someone when they kept all conversations to topics so banal they lacked any interest or depth?
“No,” she echoed. “But I suppose it is different for men, isn’t it? You can marry and seek your pleasure elsewhere if you so wish.”
He shrugged. “As could you. Taking a lover is not the sole providence of men.” He thought of his mother, but quickly pushed the thought away.
“Perhaps not.” She shifted in his arms. He longed to catch a glimpse of her pale blue eyes, to know what she thought, felt. “I do not intend to do so. When I take my vows I mean to honor them. But I have not taken them as yet. I have made no promises to anyone.”
His heart thudded painfully in his chest. What was she saying?
“Do you swear to me Lord Roxton will not be attending this evening?”
“Yes,” he lied.
A small puff of air escaped her and her body sagged in his arms.
“How do you know? Who are you?”
He could not tell her. She hated him, despised his very existence. If she knew whose arms held her, whose mouth she had kissed with such passion, she would never forgive herself.
Or him.
“You know I cannot say.”
“Then tell me this and be truthful, did you feel it, when we kissed? Did it not feel…magical? Or is that always the way?”
He lifted a hand and touched her face. Such innocence. He trailed his thumb along the
He deepened the kiss, expecting her to shove him away. Slap him. Finally see reason and demand he escort her from this horrid place.
She did none of those things.
Instead, she tried to keep up with the hunger of his kiss. Something in the way she innocently bumbled her way through it touched him. Deeply. In a place he no longer thought available to him. And that was most surprising of all.
Instinctively, he gentled the kiss. The lesson he’d meant to teach her had turned on its ear, and he realized he still had much to learn. The control he’d thought he possessed over his passions dangled from a very tenuous string, and this woman—this woman that reviled him—seemed able to pluck it until it vibrated painfully, bringing all his nerves to life.
If he had any sense at all, he would let her go. End this.
But he had no sense. Not where she was concerned.
He explored the confines of her sweet mouth with his tongue. She tasted of champagne. Heat seared through him as she tentatively did the same. Soft and willing as a courtesan, what she lacked in skill, she made up for with innocent exuberance.
He had meant to frighten her. Instead, he was the one who was frightened. Frightened by his body’s response to her, by how good it felt to hold her in his arms, the intoxicating feel of her body pressed against his own.
He had once dreamed of this. Once, a long time ago.
Much had changed since then.
With great reluctance, he lifted is mouth from hers, stopping only to drop one last, quick kiss on her swollen lips.
He reached up and straightened her mask their passion had knocked askew. “Forgive me,” he breathed.
For a long moment, she said nothing. He stood silently, still holding her, feeling the vibrations of their heartbeats where their bodies met. She had been as affected as he. It gave him little solace.
“I will see you to your carriage,” he said.
Still, she did not move. The darkness did not allow him to see her face, but when she spoke; her voice came in a quiet whisper.
“Are you married, my lord?”
The question surprised him. For a brief moment, he had forgotten she did not know who he was. The fact she did not know who she had kissed saddened him. “No.”
“When you do marry, do you expect to have an affection for your wife?”
He thought of Miss Caldwell, her perfect beauty, her perfect manners, her perfect sense of propriety.
“No,” he finally answered. He did not love Eugenie Caldwell. He did not even know if he liked her. He did not know her at all. How did you get to know someone when they kept all conversations to topics so banal they lacked any interest or depth?
“No,” she echoed. “But I suppose it is different for men, isn’t it? You can marry and seek your pleasure elsewhere if you so wish.”
He shrugged. “As could you. Taking a lover is not the sole providence of men.” He thought of his mother, but quickly pushed the thought away.
“Perhaps not.” She shifted in his arms. He longed to catch a glimpse of her pale blue eyes, to know what she thought, felt. “I do not intend to do so. When I take my vows I mean to honor them. But I have not taken them as yet. I have made no promises to anyone.”
His heart thudded painfully in his chest. What was she saying?
“Do you swear to me Lord Roxton will not be attending this evening?”
“Yes,” he lied.
A small puff of air escaped her and her body sagged in his arms.
“How do you know? Who are you?”
He could not tell her. She hated him, despised his very existence. If she knew whose arms held her, whose mouth she had kissed with such passion, she would never forgive herself.
Or him.
“You know I cannot say.”
“Then tell me this and be truthful, did you feel it, when we kissed? Did it not feel…magical? Or is that always the way?”
He lifted a hand and touched her face. Such innocence. He trailed his thumb along the
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