Page 20 of Counting on a Countess
“I cannot wait longer,” he said with contrition.
“Understandable.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “We can wed in three days, if that’s what will help you.”
“It will,” he said eagerly. “Thank you.” His gaze narrowed on her face. There was a sudden determination in his eyes. “I’d like to kiss you.”
Ah, there went her pulse again. It sped up at his words, making breath hard to find and her palms damp.
“You don’t have to,” she answered quickly. “I’ll consider our agreement binding. Here.” She offered him her hand to shake.
He slid his palm over hers, and the thin leather of his gloves through her own kidskin was as hot as his bare skin touching hers. Tamsyn’s heart jumped into her throat at the contact. But he didn’t shake her hand. Instead, he cradled it, enfolding her with his broad palm and long fingers.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, but there was no mistaking the desire in his gaze. “We may be entering into this union with practical intentions, but I’m a man before I’m a businessman. And I’d very much enjoy kissing my future wife.”
“I... oh.” She glanced at his lips. They were curved and well formed, and she feared what they would feel like against her mouth. She suspected that he knew the art of kissing and could make a woman surrender everything with just his mouth.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “I’ll make it good for you.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
But I want to know. I want to taste him.
She drew in a breath. “You may kiss me.”
He leaned closer to her, slowly, as if afraid of frightening her. Engulfed by his masculinity, she grew light-headed. There was faint stubble on his jaw and cheeks where his beard would come in. Would it be gold or brown or even reddish? It was a shame that beards weren’t fashionable, because there was something so definitively masculine about them. If she had her way—
Her thoughts stuttered and died as he pressed his lips to hers, and her eyes fluttered shut. She sank into the sensation of his mouth gently stroking back and forth, as if learning her, testing the feel of him and her together. He lingered that way for a while, as if in no hurry to speed the process along. If kissing was music, then he was a maestro, building gradually, allowing the melody to take shape before plunging ahead.
The press of his lips grew firmer, and she found herself meeting him, leaning into the kiss and letting it delve deeper. At her response, a low sound of approval rose up from his chest. He slowly urged her lips apart and took the kiss further. The very tip of his tongue dipped to taste her. Without thought, she nipped at his tongue and met it with her own.
Hot electricity shot through her. It coursed along her body, forking into bright strands that wove through her breasts and between her legs. She inhaled sharply, stunned by the sudden, powerful sensations.
I’m going to be married to this man? Mercy.
They pulled back in unison and her eyes flew open. His gaze was clouded with dazed pleasure and astonishment.
It seemed he’d also been shocked by the heat of their kiss and the speed of its intensity. He, a known rake and libertine, lookedarousedby what surely had to be one of the chastest kisses he’d experienced in a long while.
Except it hadn’t been chaste. It had been brief, but their tongues lightly touching had been profoundly erotic, hinting at greater pleasure to come.
He cleared his throat. “That was... a welcome revelation.”
Her thoughts whirled while her body clamored for more. Hellfire—if this quick kiss had affected her so much, what would happen when they went to bed together? What if she liked it? What if shelovedit, and her heart followed her body’s devotion? Then she’d have to reconcile herself to him leaving her bed for another.
“I should be getting back,” she said.
“Yes.”
She stood, and he did the same, but it was then that she realized their hands were still clasped. She let him go at once, dropping him as though he burned.
“Let’s get you home.” He held out his arm.
Still shaken by the kiss, her legs wobbled slightly as they headed toward Lady Daleford’s town home, with Nessa trailing after them. Tamsyn looked back at her friend, who responded with a grin and a raised thumb.
“I’ll go for the special license tomorrow,” the earl said. “I can pick the venue, too, unless you’d like to make the selection.”
“I trust you.” Did she? Tamsyn was about to join with this man for the rest of her life. Aside from a few facts, she knew almost nothing about him. He was basically a stranger. Yet in three days, they would share a bed. They would share everything. According to the law, she would belong to him, and her own identity would dissolve.
Was this the right choice? She’d gotten what she wanted, but she couldn’t help the fear that poked its sharp fangs into her heart.
