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Authors: Dorothy McFalls
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pull away even if she had wanted to. Then, a deep heat rose up from low in her belly, melting her resolve . . . washing away any warring thoughts. She pressed her hand against his chest, thrilling in the raw sensations a kiss—naught but a simple kiss—could conjure in her.
* * * * *
The caress wasn’t much more than a brush of her lips. Radford reined in his desire to run his tongue over her soft lips and tease open the entrance.
She’d tensed at his initial touch. He’d fully expected her to jerk her head away. The sensual sigh she breathed instead emboldened him. She wanted this kiss as much as he. When she pressed her hand against his shoulder, he took the cue and pulled her closer so their bodies could meld together.
Her fairy lips tasted of the sweetest nectar, stirring a mysterious, overpowering sensation in the center of his chest.
Ah, if only he could kiss those full, warm lips all night—but alas, that was not all he would be doing if he did not draw away . . . immediately . . . without a moment’s delay.
He tore his lips from hers but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. If the misty look on her shadowed expression was any indication, she was on the verge of a swoon.
“A thousand pardons, Miss Sheffers,” he whispered.
Her swollen lips remained pursed, invitingly kissable, as she stared upon him with befuddlement.
He realized then what he should have known right away by the tentative play of her lips against his. This woman . . . this four-and-twenty year old sensual woman had just experienced her first romantic kiss. He had awakened her body to the enticing pleasures of the flesh and she’d responded like a woman long starved for affection.
Her passions had stirred timidly at first, but they promised to burn hot enough to make his head spin.
Damnation. His passions were stirring as well.
“I should have never,” he said with a rush, though it was a lie. He regretted nothing. “I forgot myself . . . ” And the lovely Lady Lillian he planned to marry . “I do apologize.”
She blinked. A lusty glow softened her strange elf-like features. In the pale moonlight she looked otherworldly . . . almost beautiful.
He should have never started something in this darkened, leather-scented library that he could have no hope of continuing. Despite all her earthy allure, Miss Sheffers fell short of the qualifications he’d detailed on his list.
“You do understand?” He wondered if anything he had said had penetrated her foggy head.
She blinked again, this time clearing the innocent bedroom glaze from them. “I did not scream or slap your cheek, my lord, because I dearly wish to avoid a messy scene.” Her voice was husky and not without a tremble. “It was most inappropriate for you to have taken advantage of me like that . . . kissing me, indeed! I hope you do not attack other women who might have the misfortune of stumbling into an empty room with you.”
Her chin came up, and her features tightened into a prude’s scowl.
“My dear Miss Sheffers”—Radford could not help but chuckle—“I believe you did much more than refrain from protesting.”
Even in the dim light he could see the color of her tan cheeks deepen.
“I certainly did not—”
He pressed a finger to her mouth and silenced her protests as he indulged in one last pleasure and caressed those apple-sweet lips.
“You certainly did,” he whispered. He could feel her skin quiver in response to his touch and the sound of his voice. A hint of milky passion returned to her gaze.
She blinked it away. “Excuse me, my lord. I will be missed.”
Miss Sheffers ducked her head away from his gentle strokes and slipped out of the library.
And his life . . .
For never again should he consider such a dalliance. Raised by a father who held honor and chivalry above all things, Radford firmly believed in a man remaining faithful to his wife—or in his case, his future wife, the lovely Lady
* * * * *
The caress wasn’t much more than a brush of her lips. Radford reined in his desire to run his tongue over her soft lips and tease open the entrance.
She’d tensed at his initial touch. He’d fully expected her to jerk her head away. The sensual sigh she breathed instead emboldened him. She wanted this kiss as much as he. When she pressed her hand against his shoulder, he took the cue and pulled her closer so their bodies could meld together.
Her fairy lips tasted of the sweetest nectar, stirring a mysterious, overpowering sensation in the center of his chest.
Ah, if only he could kiss those full, warm lips all night—but alas, that was not all he would be doing if he did not draw away . . . immediately . . . without a moment’s delay.
He tore his lips from hers but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. If the misty look on her shadowed expression was any indication, she was on the verge of a swoon.
“A thousand pardons, Miss Sheffers,” he whispered.
Her swollen lips remained pursed, invitingly kissable, as she stared upon him with befuddlement.
He realized then what he should have known right away by the tentative play of her lips against his. This woman . . . this four-and-twenty year old sensual woman had just experienced her first romantic kiss. He had awakened her body to the enticing pleasures of the flesh and she’d responded like a woman long starved for affection.
Her passions had stirred timidly at first, but they promised to burn hot enough to make his head spin.
Damnation. His passions were stirring as well.
“I should have never,” he said with a rush, though it was a lie. He regretted nothing. “I forgot myself . . . ” And the lovely Lady Lillian he planned to marry . “I do apologize.”
She blinked. A lusty glow softened her strange elf-like features. In the pale moonlight she looked otherworldly . . . almost beautiful.
He should have never started something in this darkened, leather-scented library that he could have no hope of continuing. Despite all her earthy allure, Miss Sheffers fell short of the qualifications he’d detailed on his list.
“You do understand?” He wondered if anything he had said had penetrated her foggy head.
She blinked again, this time clearing the innocent bedroom glaze from them. “I did not scream or slap your cheek, my lord, because I dearly wish to avoid a messy scene.” Her voice was husky and not without a tremble. “It was most inappropriate for you to have taken advantage of me like that . . . kissing me, indeed! I hope you do not attack other women who might have the misfortune of stumbling into an empty room with you.”
Her chin came up, and her features tightened into a prude’s scowl.
“My dear Miss Sheffers”—Radford could not help but chuckle—“I believe you did much more than refrain from protesting.”
Even in the dim light he could see the color of her tan cheeks deepen.
“I certainly did not—”
He pressed a finger to her mouth and silenced her protests as he indulged in one last pleasure and caressed those apple-sweet lips.
“You certainly did,” he whispered. He could feel her skin quiver in response to his touch and the sound of his voice. A hint of milky passion returned to her gaze.
She blinked it away. “Excuse me, my lord. I will be missed.”
Miss Sheffers ducked her head away from his gentle strokes and slipped out of the library.
And his life . . .
For never again should he consider such a dalliance. Raised by a father who held honor and chivalry above all things, Radford firmly believed in a man remaining faithful to his wife—or in his case, his future wife, the lovely Lady
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