Page 41 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
“Surely the house mothers came to look for you?”
A quiet shake of her head was his answer. “Speaks volumes how much anyone cared for me. That was before Lily Matthews came to the school and became my best friend.”
Rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, Daniel said, “I’d like to meet her.”
“I think you should tonight,” Harriet looked hopeful. “She’s been traveling all winter, but promised me she would come to see me.”
“Does she know about your misbegotten plan to seduce the worst rakehell in the ton?” Daniel asked.
“If I’d been able to send the letter you’ve taken from me, she would have,” Harriet responded easily. “A letter that you are currently holding hostage.”
“Just until you grasp all the knowledge that I have to give you and then I’ll return it. Speaking of, do you know the language of fans?” Daniel asked. “It’s a great aid to a woman when she is flirting.”
Harriet blinked, “I have never heard such.”
“Do you have one in your reticule?” Daniel asked. “Please take it out.”
After retrieving it, Harriet handed it over to him, but Daniel shook his head. “Close it and touch it to your left cheek.”
After doing so, Harriet asked, “What does this mean?”
“It’s a subtle way of saying no,” Daniel replied. “If you place it on your right, it means yes.”
Pulling the fan away, Harriet laughed, “It feels absurd.”
“Placing it on your left ear, means you want to get rid of someone,” Daniel replied. “And drawing it across your eyes means you’re sorry. Touching a closed fan near your right eye is a request to see another person again and placing an open fan means I love you.”
Harriet stared at the closed item in her hands. “Soon you might be telling me there is one that means asking for a kiss.”
“There is,” Daniel said, taking the fan and opening it halfway, then pressed it lightly on her lips. “There, now you are asking to be kissed.”
Slowly, she pulled the fan away, looked at it in her hands and after meeting Daniel’s eyes once more, gently rested it on her lips. Her meaning—not so subtle.
Chapter Thirteen
Heat burned behind his eyes and his knuckles coaxed her head up. Instead of his gaze centering on her mouth, Daniel did not look away from her eyes, as if he was parting through the layers to see right into her soul.
As he leaned in, her throat felt strangled; tight enough that her jaw wouldn’t have moved if his lips had not landed on hers. When his mouth found hers, the kiss, tender at first, grew deep and smoldered with raw hunger. His lips were hot and demanding against hers, along with the slow strokes of his velvety tongue.
As they twined and stroked, Harriet felt herself being lifted and deposited on Daniel’s lap, twisting delicately enough that her legs were over his legs and her bottom on his thighs.
They kissed for what could have been a blissful eternity, unaware that they were in a moving coach. Thankfully, there were still in the area where the country houses were far and few between. When Daniel’s lips moved to the curve of her throat, Harriet dug her fingers into his hair and arched against him, turning her head to the side to give him greater access.
His mouth and tongue were a brand of heat to her tender skin. Wherever his lips passed over her skin, even for the barest brush or a warm breath, they left a trail of fire on her throat, while his fingers moved to caress her breast through the thin fabric of her gown.
A thin fog of pleasure had descended on her mind, as the slow torture went on. She couldn’t help but squirm on his lap, wiggling more and more until his broad hand grabbed her waist.
“Stop wiggling, or things will take a turn that I know you’re not ready for,” Daniel’s warning was profound, and guttural. It made shivers run over her skin and evoked a sweet tightening in her belly, but Harriet knew—and could feel—what he was hinting at, and willed herself to stay still.
Instead of resuming the kiss, Daniel moved his hand up to her cheek, coasting a thumb over her softly rounded cheek that tapered to a pert little chin. His thumb came to a stop under her bottom lip, where her lips, rosy and full, from their kisses, parted softly.
Harriet felt her eyes flutter a little, and the strangest urge to rest her head on his shoulder came upon her.
“Your freckles,” he murmured.
“What about them?” Harriet asked.
“They fit you perfectly,” Daniel replied, as his eyes roamed over her cheekbones. “Very charming.”
