Page 23 of A Touch Wicked
Enough, James. Put Selene out of your mind for one bloody night.
James heard Miss Dumont speak again. “Oh, for god’s sake,” she said in irritation, shutting the book with a hard thump. “It’s going to end eventually, you great ninny.”
“That must be some book,” James found himself saying as he came into the room.
Startled, Miss Dumont turned with a gasp. “Lord Kent!” Then, as she took a step down a ladder, she lost her footing.
James lunged to catch her. He bit back a groan as her body came flush against his, every delicate curve against him. He hoped those petticoats women wore did something to mask his sudden raging arousal. It didn’t help that they were both breathing hard, and her breasts were pressed to his bicep and—
“Oh,” she was saying as she found her bearings. “Oh, dear.” Then she looked up at him and god help him, he was momentarily lost in her gaze. She visibly swallowed. “Oh,” she sighed again.
“Oh, indeed,” James said softly.
“I’m not usually so clumsy,” she told him.
James raised an amused eyebrow. “Are you implying this is my fault?”
“You’re making a habit of surprising me, it seems. Lurking in doors, around corridors . . .”
“Lurking?” He almost smiled. “I live here.”
“As coincidences would have it, so do I.”
James realized then that he’d made no move to release her, and she’d made no attempt to pull away.
“Yes, you do,” he murmured.
Her lips were close. Unexpectedly, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
As if she’d read his mind, she sucked in a breath and disentangled herself from his grip. “I shall endeavor to be more graceful. Next time, I may break you.”
Now he did smile. “I assure you, I’m not so fragile.”
“Of course you’re not.” He noticed her eyes linger on his body. “Not at all. You’re very—” she cleared her throat “— solid.”
Then she looked away and bent to retrieve her book. He had the distinct impression she was blushing, and that only delighted him further.
James leaned against the ladder. “Now I must know about that book.”
“This one?”
She was refusing to look up at him and he found her . . . well, rather adorable.
“If that’s the one you were chastising yourself about when I came in, then yes. What is it?”
“I don’t think you’d like it.” She glanced up at him. “It’s called,Fantomina; or Love in a Maze.”
“Ah,” he said. “One of my sister’s many romances. Now I understand why she fancies herself a suffragette.” He gestured to the book. “Go on, then, Miss Dumont. Tell me why you don’t think I’d like it.”
“The main character is a very uncommon woman in fiction, you see. She questions the restrictions of her social status — resents them, really — because a woman’s upbringing limits her ability to go after what she wants.”
How was it that her voice could change like that? It was husky, almost seductive. Was she aware of it? He didn’t think so.
“And what does this woman want?”
“A certain gentleman, of course.” Miss Dumont’s smile was secretive. “She disguises herself in several ways with the intent of seducing him.”
James let out a surprised breath. “And does she succeed?”
