Page 67 of From Rakes to Riches

It was meant to be a kiss only, just one kiss…

But he couldn’t make himself let her go. Instead of setting her away from him as he should have done, he wrapped his hands around her slender waist, his fingers curling into the delicious curve of her hips. “Come here, sweetheart, let me…” He urged her to her feet and pressed her back against the table, one hand sliding up her spine and into the open neck of her gown.

“Adrian.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to the hollow of his throat, sucking a fold of his skin between her teeth and nipping at him.

“Ah.” He shuddered, his head swimming with need, and pressed her closer, his body crushed to hers. He could feel the shape of her thighs and her breasts, and God, she felt so good, her soft curves such a perfect fit against him, her belly cradling his aching cock.

“Adrian,” she moaned. “Please.”

Then he was whispering to her, jumbled words of need and desire, his mouth hot against her ear and his hands on her hips, mere seconds away from forgetting himself entirely and lifting her onto the table, his hand fisted in her skirts, and God knew what might have happened if his elbow hadn’t hit the basket, and sent it toppling to the floor, white ribbons spilling from the top of it.

He blinked, dazed, then tore his mouth from hers with a defeated groan. This was madness. She wasn’t some London courtesan, but his sons’ governess, and an innocent. “This isn’t…we can’t…” He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath. “You need to go upstairs now, sweetheart.”

For a moment she seemed not to understand, her fingers curling in his shirt as she gazed up at him, her touch stealing every breath he’d struggled for, but as the silent moments tickedby, the haze of her desire dissipated, and he saw the exact instant when she realized where she was, what they’d done.

Her hands dropped away from him. “Oh, dear. Yes, I—I think that would be best.”

It took everything in him not to snatch her back into his arms, but he settled for brushing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Mostly chaste. For now, that is.

This wouldn’t be the last time he kissed Helena Templeton. “Goodnight, Helena.”

She peeked up at him from under her eyelashes, her cheeks pink. “Goodnight, Lord Hawke.”

“Adrian.” Touching her again was dangerous, but he caught one of her loose curls and twined it around his finger before releasing her and stepping back, away from those temptingly swollen red lips. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

13

Helena didn’t sleep at all that night, but this time it had nothing to do with the kittens. Kittenish antics weren’t, as it happened, any match for an earl’s kisses when it came to depriving a lady of her rest.

Though perhaps it wasn’t earls’ kisses in general, but only Adrian’s kisses. Yes,hiskisses were the reason she’d memorized the length, width and direction of every crack in the ceiling directly above her bed.

She’d floated up the stairs last night, her fingers pressed to her swollen lips, Adrian’s whispered words in her ears, imagining that the most delicious dreams awaited her. Dreams of his mouth taking hers, his lips softer than any mans’ should be, the silky glide of his hair against her fingertips, and the gentle stroke of his hands over her heated skin.

But as night crept toward day it brought reality with it, as surely as it brought the frigid morning air that crept under her coverlet and bit her toes.

She didn’t have any business kissing Adrian. Phee needed her, and she would never turn her back on her sister. She wasleaving Hawke’s Run, leaving them all behind, and that was the end of it.

But Lady Anne wasn’t going anywhere. Sweet, affectionate Lady Anne, with her pretty blue eyes and infectious smile. Lady Anne, who was born to be a countess, and who would love Ryan and Etienne almost as much as she herself did.

Instead of kissing Adrian, she should be encouraging him to kiss Lady Anne, even if the thought of his lips roaming over Lady Anne’s fair skin did cause a wrench in her chest that left her gasping.

But she was a Templeton sister, and the Templeton sisters were matchmakers. Not that it took a matchmaker to see that there wasn’t a lady in England who was a better match for Adrian than Lady Anne. It was a happily-ever-after in the making.

It just wasn’therhappily-ever-after. She was only getting in the way of what was meant to be. So, for the first time since she’d spied him sneaking into the stables, she didn’t hurry to the window seat when the clock chimed the four o’clock hour, but remained flat on her back in her bed, every limb rigid, and waited until she was certain he’d been to see Hecate and then gone again.

Only then did she rise, dress and make her way to the stables. Hecate was rolling about on her warm flannel with the remains of last night’s lamb stew in a dish beside her, looking quite pleased with herself. “Spoiled thing.” She scratched Hecate under the chin, but otherwise didn’t linger, leaving the cat purring contentedly.

She found Mrs. Norris laboring over the fire in the kitchens.

“Oh, good morning, Miss Templeton.” Mrs. Norris turned from her task when the door opened. “You’re up early.”

“We’re both earlier than usual this morning. Here, I’ll do that.” Helena took the tinderbox from the housekeeper and soonhad the fire burning, and had set the kettle on to boil. “I rose early this morning to check on Hecate.”

“Ah. How does Miss Hecate do this morning? Any kittens yet?”

“Not yet, no, but it won’t be long now. You can’t imagine how excited Ryan and Etienne are. They’re beside themselves with anticipation.”

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