Page 28 of The Lady Was Lying
“The garden here is rather small,” Clarissa said. “Not much to see.”
“Does it have roses?”
“A few.”
“I’ll see whether they are blooming.” It was still far too cold, but neither Emmeline nor Clarissa stopped her as she walked out of the nursery. She descended the stairs and turned the corner to find James striding towards her.
The very man she’d been trying to avoid was directly in her path. Had he been sent to tempt her? To test her resolve? It was impossible to determine whether fate was conspiring with her or against her, but maybe encountering him again so soon was a sign.
All the advice her mother had whispered in her ear over the years had prepared her for a moment exactly like this one. Steeling herself, she halted and curtsied, dropping far lower than was necessary and then rising languidly.
“Your Grace,” tripped off her tongue.
“Lady Belinda.” His voice was clipped, and instead of bowing politely, he stepped backward.
“Three encounters.” She closed the distance between them. “All chance.” She trailed her finger up his chest. “Perhaps fate is on my side.”
He swallowed, his throat rippling with the force of it. “You followed me?”
“Absolutely not.” How dare he suggest she was chasing after him. “I came with Emmeline and Arianna over an hour ago.”
“I was not aware they were here.”
She poked him in the center of his chest. “I was not aware you were here.”
“I wasn’t,” he responded, far more breathless than he’d been. “Danford and I took a ride. Stopped at his club. A drunken fool spilled the contents of his drink on his waistcoat so he’s changing, and then he’s going to introduce me to his wife and children.”
“Emmeline and Arianna are with them now.” Her finger trailed upward. “You can enjoy their company too.”
He didn’t move. “How fortuitous.”
Her finger stopped at the top of his elegantly tied cravat. She lifted it and placed it on the center of his lower lip. He exhaled, and she felt a slight thrill as his warm breath raced over the tip. With careful precision, she traced his lip, enjoying the way the slightly chapped skin felt against her delicate finger. The short hairs of his beard brushed against her palm, softer than she’d expected. How would they feel against her mouth?
“Emmeline and Clarissa socialize weekly when they are both in London. They are close friends,” she murmured, trying to keep her wits about her. “I don’t usually join them.”
He didn’t respond. Maybe he couldn’t.
It wouldn’t take much effort to exchange her finger with her mouth. She was nearly sure he would allow it. Victory would be sweet, even though the triumph would probably fade quicker than she’d like. Before she could make another move, his tongue contacted her finger. She sucked in a breath and retracted her hand on instinct.
James was going to kiss her.
Right now.
In his half-brother’s home.
How could he resist when she touched him so gently? And stared at him so intently?
In a high-necked, long-sleeved gown, she looked different than she looked at night. Still beautiful, and still remarkably potent, but more approachable somehow.
Slowly, so as not to startle her, he leaned forward, tipping his head slightly as he entered her personal space. Her eyes, which had slipped shut the first time they’d been this close, were fixed on his, creating a deeper connection than he’d thought possible. Her breath smelled faintly of tea. As he inhaled, his right hand found her hip, not tugging her closer, just holding her steady.
He licked his lips and started to close the distance, when suddenly voices sounded from the upstairs hallway. Her eyes widened a fraction, and something he’d never seen before flitted through them.
Was it panic?
She pulled away, and he had no choice but to release her.
Her hand rose to her mouth, pressing on her bottom lip. “I have to go,” she whispered before turning and dashing down the hall.
