Lady Rosabella's Ruse

His lips twisted. ‘Do you want to know how I can tell when a woman is lying?’

She stared at him. ‘How?’

‘Her lips are moving.’

She recoiled. ‘What cynicism, my lord. Perhaps you have been mixing with the wrong kind of women.’

He inclined his head a fraction. ‘Perhaps.’ He took her arm firmly and urged her forwards. ‘But you are lying, nonetheless.’

Blast the man, she was, but not about what was important in this matter. ‘What I seek is rightfully mine.’

‘If so, you would not be sneaking around in the dark.’

Implacable. She jerked her arm free of his hand. ‘If I had any other choice, do you think I wouldn’t take it?’

Oh, dash it all, were those tears she heard in her voice? She despised tears. She swallowed the hot lump in her throat. ‘Fine. Tell whoever you wish.’ She broke into a run, slipping and sliding on the sodden ground, hearing his heavy steps behind her. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

‘Mrs Travenor,’ he said in low impatient tones. ‘Stop. You will fall and hurt yourself.’

She broke through the trees and saw the light of the house ahead. She lifted her skirts higher, ran faster.

A hand caught her arm. Swung her around. Held her upright. And then she was pressed against a hard wall of male chest. It rose and fell from running. As did hers. Heat invaded her breasts and thighs. She struggled to free her arms. He drew her closer, using only one hand, and lifted the lantern. Grim-faced he glared down at her. ‘What in hell’s name do you think you are doing?’

‘Let go of me.’

If anything he tightened his grip. The heat of the day before swirled around them. She stared at his mouth. At the lips that once more tempted. She could not tear her gaze away.

‘Rose,’ he whispered.

He bent his head and took her mouth.

She grabbed his lapels, stood on tiptoes and pressed against him, kissed him back. It seemed the only way to quench the fire in her blood.

A groan rumbled up from his chest. Her breasts tingled and tightened. She put her arms around his neck.

On a gasp, he broke the kiss.

A sense of loss engulfed her. Longing.

Retaining his grip on her shoulders, he blew out the lantern and set it down. ‘Now,’ he murmured, ‘where were we?’ Both arms went around her, one hand at her nape, the other around her waist, and once more their lips melded.

She felt as if she was flying ten feet off the ground. A dizzying, exciting sensation. Her body hummed with a longing to burrow against him. His tongue slipped through her parted lips and into her mouth. Her limbs became heavy and languid, her mind empty of all but the heat and the hunger. When his tongue retreated, she followed it with her own, tasting the darkness of his mouth, the brandy and pleasure.