Page 23 of When a Lady Kisses a Scot
He gave a little snort, making it clear he’d seen through her suggestion, to her desire to leave this closed-in, far-too-intimate space. “You’re certain the old goat’s not here?”
“Yes. Now, shall we proceed to the next location? I believe you’d planned to take a meal at Café Susannah.”
Thank heavens this torture is about to end.
“And what of Esme? Is she still flitting about us?”
“Not at the moment. Rest assured, I shall experience no difficulty in summoning her.”
“So, we are alone?”
Sophie fought the urge to gulp a bit of air. She was being a goose. If only Stanwyck was not watching her so intently, a chess master calculating his next move.
“Except for the secretary with her ear to the door, yes, we are alone.” She fashioned a placid smile. “I assume your driver is waiting with the carriage.”
He nodded. “He’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
She held her head high, striving to present the illusion that he had not succeeded in flustering her. This was all quite silly, really. She’d faced a brute in an alley the night before and walked away, unscathed and, for the most part, unshaken. Standing here, face-to-face with a blasted man of books, should not set her nerves on alert.
Cocking her chin, she walked to the door. “I am ready to leave, Professor Stanwyck.”
He didn’t move, other than to cross his arms over his chest and rock back on his heels. “The way I see it, you set forth a challenge. I am debating whether or not to accept it.”
“A challenge?” She frowned. “I don’t follow.”
He unfolded his arms and stalked to where she stood. Gently, his hands draped her shoulders. Strong, but without pressure. Without violence. “You said I would have to try harder for you to be convinced I am a scoundrel. What is that, if not a challenge?”
Words hovered on the tip of her tongue but failed to escape her lips. He shouldn’t be holding her, regardless of how warm his hands were against her body. He shouldn’t be so very near. She drank in subtle notes of sandalwood on his jaw and his throat. He shouldn’t be studying her with those perceptive eyes, a glint of sensual interest darkening his sapphire irises.
She drew in a breath, even as he held her closer still. If she’d detected any hint of danger, she would’ve brought him to the ground with a well-placed knee or a calculated swing of her weighted reticule against the pulse point behind his ear. But this man did not presentthatnature of a threat.
No, the danger in his touch was more subtle. More insidious. And ultimately, far more powerful. She could not betray the effect he had on her. She could not give him that weapon against her.
“I meant what I said.” A miracle, how steady she held her tone. “When I look at you, I do not see a cad. I see a man in need of answers. The only question is, what are the answers you truly seek?”
“And if I kissed you? Would you think me a rogue?”
The heat in his gaze kindled a spark deep within her, but she steeled herself against the sudden and powerful need. She could not let on how delicious his breath felt against her cheek, how good…how right…it felt to be in his arms.
“No.” She lifted her gaze to lock with his. “I would think you a man, with a man’s desires and needs. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“You are a temptation I could not have anticipated.” A tiny muscle in his jaw tensed. “And I…well, I am a bloody fool.”
His hands slid lower, settling on her leg-of-mutton sleeves, and he dipped his head. She might’ve imagined the sound, but his breath seemed a sigh. And then, his lips claimed hers in a kiss.
Oh, my, such a delicious caress. Shock rippled through Sophie’s veins, coupled with an instinctive alarm. Not fear. Far from it. Rather, this man’s touch should not feel so very tempting, so very tender. So maddeningly right.
His kiss was a leisurely possession. Gentle. Exploring. And, she knew in her heart, a testimony to his restraint. He infused the soft touch of his lips with hunger, stirring her own bone-deep need. Yet, he held back, the passion she glimpsed in his eyes tightly leashed.
His muscles taut, his hands light upon her arms, he held her so loosely she could…and should…break away.
Break away. Her logical mind chanted the words like a litany. If only she did not welcome his touch and his kiss, the heat of his strong, lean body. Closing her eyes, she gave in to temptation, savoring the feel of him, the taste of his kiss, the tautly controlled power in his body. His essence, crisp and clean and so very male, filled her senses, and she drank it in.
His tongue parted her lips, intensifying the flames kindling within her. She should end this madness. Here and now. It wasn’t as if she’d never known temptation. She knew better than to mix pleasure with her duty.
Peculiar, how natural it felt to be held by him, to be kissed by him.
Pity he was a man she knew better than to trust.
