Page 35 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
As if to prove a point, Kit squeezed him closer still. He whirled Lando around, moving on instinct. And if Lando’s breath was taken away by the end of the dance, he’d know the damned reason hid behind the pair of sinful dark eyes laughing down at him.
“‘Trust me,’ you insisted,” Kit said after one of his more exuberant moves. “Though it might be the most foolish decision of my short life, I have decided to obey.” And with nothing but a determined look and a sudden swerve nearly toppling them both, Kit took the lead. Stronger and bigger, he swept Lando across the dancefloor in any direction he pleased. Kit went right, Lando went right. He sped up, Lando sped up. With all accuracy and timing abandoned, it was a ridiculous, made-up country jig of a dance, but it made Lando smile, it made him giggle.
“I’m unfamiliar with this one,” Lando cried breathily after a most unaristocratic squeal.
“It’s called ‘The Angel.’” Kit pulled him into a twirl. “It will soon be the talk of theton, you’ll see. We’ll be asked to demonstrate it in every drawing room from here to Piccadilly.”
Another twirl followed the first. One hand slipped lower to rest on Lando’s slim hip, the other grazed the dip of his spine, pulling him closer as Kit spun him around. A flood of heat ignited between them; Lando became aware of it at the same moment as Kit’s hooded gaze turned from amusement to something more restless. As if tethered, their steps slowed. They found themselves marooned in the middle of the empty dance floor.
When Lando tipped his head, only the smallest fraction, he found Kit’s lips expectantly waiting for him, sweet and soft. Their tongues mingled in a tentative gasping exploration, filling Lando’s soul with the purest, sturdiest, diamond-hard joy.
“We appear to have stopped dancing,” Kit whispered when they broke apart. He stroked a finger down Lando’s cheek, his gaze following the path as though memorising the contours. “If I kiss and dance at the same time, then an amateur such as I cannot give our kiss the attention it deserves.”
“There is nothing amateur about your mouth.” Lando tasted it again, just to be sure. “See? Your lips fit perfectly over mine. Your waltzing, however, is woeful. I am not convinced this newfangled dance of yours will catch on.”
“Then I shall save it only for you, for when we are alone,” answered Kit and kissed him again, deeply.
Dawn light fell more and more brightly upon their heaving shoulders. Outside in the street, a cart rumbled by. Lando’s servants would be about their business at any moment.
“We have danced the night away.” Kit glanced towards the window.
“And banished my demons along with it,” agreed Lando. “I am grateful. Sometimes they trail after me for days on end. Such a bore, especially as we have so much to do.”
Kit cradled his face, his hand cupping Lando’s cheek. He swayed slightly. “I’d like to take you to bed,” Kit whispered.
“I’m…” Lando pressed his forehead into the warmth of Kit’s chest. “I am not ready. I’m damaged, Kit. I should warn you. Difficult too. Spoiled even. I’m not always pleasant to those around me.”
“If I were a true gentleman, I would disagree wholeheartedly and enlist all the ways you are not.” Kit tangled his fingers in Lando’s hair. “And God knows I’m flawed too. But the truth is that I find you to be all of those things and more. And yet…and yet, I still want you. As, I hope, you want me. I am prepared to wait.”
“Be prepared to trust me, too,” Lando pleaded. “However it might seem, however dark it might get, I promise I shall not let you hang.”
Chapter Seventeen
KIT WOKE TOa man in his bedchamber. The wrong man, unfortunately. He’d bid farewell to the right one after taking him by the hand and escorting him to the bedchamber adjacent. An exquisite torture, but one which even now, as Jasper clattered the washbasin, hurled coals onto the fire, and yanked back the drapes, made his belly flip.
“I don’t think you could make any more noise if you tried,” Kit observed blandly.
“Probably not,” agreed Jasper. “His lordship requests your presence in the breakfast room.Sir.”
Kit almost replied that he requested the earl’s presence in his bed, but somehow, he didn’t feel his temporary valet would find that amusing. Jasper plonked a tray on the bedside table, sending coffee spilling down the side of the coffee pot.
“Wouldsirlike me to shave him?”
“Ye gods, no. I prefer to keep my blood contained inside my body not spurting down my neck.”
Sirwanted Jasper to bugger off so he might ablute in peace and mull over his wonderful encounter with Lando in the ballroom. Not carting him off to bed had felt right, as much as his aching cockstand had demanded otherwise.Trust me.Lando had a plan, that much was clear, from how he’d held him close. From how those pale eyes had beseeched him, had promised he’d come to no harm. From how he had clung to Kit as if losing him would destroy him.
Whatever had passed between them was more than a prelude to a simple tupping. And whatever Lando thought was wrong about men speaking words of love to one another was misinformed. He would show the man that Mr Christopher Angel was more than a damned passing pleasure vessel. And by the time he’d finished, the earl would never have eyes for anyone else.
*
ON KIT’S ARRIVALin the breakfast room, Lando dismissed his footman. His fine features bore an expression Kit couldn’t interpret. Was Lando now regretting his candour?
“Is something wrong?”
“Far from it.” As the door closed quietly behind the servant, Lando rose from his seat and greeted Kit by reaching up and delivering a kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I woke.” His eyes roamed Kit’s face. “But kissing you in front of Johnson, who has known me since I was a babe, would feel akin to kissing you with my father occupying the other end of this table, frowning behind his newspaper.”
