Page 35 of Never a Duchess
A soft blush touched her cheeks. “I find I like your methods a great deal.”
Mother of all saints!
This was a promising development.
Glancing at his trousers seemed to give her the strength to continue. “Having never felt the warm rush of desire, it was difficult for me to understand a woman’s motives.”
Last night, her sharp blue gaze had turned soft and dreamy. He could have pressed for more than a simple kiss. It was the reason he had pulled away. With this woman, he lacked restraint.
“Ye never felt it with Mr Bloom?”
“No.”
“But ye understand now?” He wished he had worn a kilt this morning so the breeze might cool the rush of heat to his loins.
“Yes, which is why I think we should research the matter in a little more depth.”
“In more depth?” Callan coughed into his fist before the shock choked him. “Ye mean we should kiss again?”
Hell, he would be on her in a heartbeat, pushing her against the wall, plundering her mouth, filling her in every possible way.
“Well, yes.” She waved her hand to suggest only an imbecile would fail to grasp her meaning. “I—I want you to arouse me to the point I almost lose my mind.”
Callan bit the inside of his cheek hard, hoping the pain might wake him from slumber, for this was undoubtedly a dream. But the tangy, metallic taste of blood proved sobering.
“You were right,” she said with some excitement. “How can I advise other ladies to avoid the pitfalls when I am a complete novice?”
“Aye, but I must advise against the dangers of such an endeavour.” Yet every cell in his body was already anticipating the event.
Miss Ware frowned. “You don’t want to kiss me?”
On the list of what he might do with her, kissing would fall under the headingTame. “Lust renders one incapable of logical thought.”
She snorted. “Is that not the point of the exercise?”
It was time to follow his own advice and hit her with the truth. “We may find ourselves doing more than kissing, Miss Ware.”
“We’ve made a blood oath.” She gave a half-shrug, and he sensed she had spent restless hours considering the risks. “Whatever happens between us will be our secret. You’re the only man I trust to assist me.”
The last comment was like an axe to his resolve.
Well, the lady said she wanted an adventure. It wasn’t quite what he had in mind. But had he not played the game to explore the possibility of them marrying?
“Then I shall stress my earlier point.” The angel on his shoulder prodded him, warning of how hard he might fall, how the pain of rejection might cause lasting damage. The devil urged him to fill his cup and drink from the fountain of pleasure. “We must be honest with each other at all times.”
“It seems like a perfect partnership,” she said, not understanding that intimacy and trust were two key ingredients in a long and lasting union. “I’m not Scottish and have no desire to be a duchess.”
Damnation!
He would be a hypocrite if he held his tongue.
“My grandmother hailed from Alnwick, Northumberland. I’m nae a pure Scotsman and have a wee drop of English blood.”
She blinked rapidly, processing the information. “I’m sure the same might be said for us all. Was she welcomed into the family?”
“My great-grandfather opposed the marriage.” Though the old devil had warmed to the idea eventually.
“Because she was English?”
