Page 23 of Lady Gambit
They both inhaled sharply and froze.
Her heart pounded so hard it might burst through her chest.
She wasn’t sure which one of them moved first. Had she brushed her lips softly over his? Had he moulded himself to her mouth as if they were made to fit together?
One thing was certain. Everything about this moment felt right—the warmth of his lips, the enticing scent of his shaving soap, the desperate hunger in every ragged breath.
He wrapped his strong arms around her, one hand settling at the small of her back, one sliding around her nape. He held her tight to his body, the heat chasing away the cold, the guilt, the fear.
Nothing mattered but the taste of Mr Flynn.
With slow, teasing strokes, he coaxed her lips apart. Sweet mercy! He knew how to kiss. Perhaps ladies were supposed to remain pliant in a man’s embrace, a passive participant, hypnotised by his touch. This man caused a fire in her blood. A pulsing between her thighs that had her returning his kisses like a wicked wanton.
He pulled away, his mouth curling into a sensual smile. “You’re my one weakness, Miss Chance. A dangerous distraction. A delightful diversion.” He was panting. His eyes roamed over her and she felt it like a soft caress on bare skin.
“Every man has a vice. Presently, I’m yours, Mr Flynn.” She moistened her lips, silently willing him to devour her mouth again.
Don’t stop.
Don’t let this be over.
He must have heard her plea because he was on her in a heartbeat, his kisses demanding, urgent, his tongue sweeping through her lips.
The tempo reached fever pitch when she slid her tongue over his and deepened the kiss. He was suddenly everywhere, cupping her buttocks, drugging her senses, surrounding her with his powerful aura.
A knock on the door had them jumping apart.
“Who is it?” He was breathless.
“You have visitors, sir,” Mrs James called, though it was strange she didn’t enter. “There’s a carriage trundling up the drive.”
“Thank you, Mrs James. I’ll be down in a moment.”
While listening to the retreating footsteps, she stared at Mr Flynn. His flushed cheeks and mussed hair drew a smile. She was more than a little infatuated with the man who’d lost control of his steely resolve.
He scrubbed his face with his hand and sighed. “There is no excuse for my behaviour. Please know I meant no disrespect.”
She brushed a stray lock behind her ear and straightened her shoulders, though the potent thrum of lust still coursed through her veins. “It’s fair to say we both lost our heads. I’m sure we’ll refrain from succumbing to our appetites in future.” Yet she would devour his mouth in a heartbeat.
“Perhaps it’s just as well this is goodbye,” he said, the comment causing her discomfort. He was everything a woman wanted in a man. Strong. Loyal. Dependable. So ridiculously handsome she could hardly breathe.
“Because you fear you cannot exercise restraint?” Such a powerful attraction was fraught with danger. They would have to fight it whenever they were alone.
“Because one thing is apparent.” He stepped back, an air of sadness about him now. “I doubt I would ever tire of kissing you, Miss Chance.”
They both fell silent.
Neither of them dared to discuss what that meant, probably because Aaron’s imminent arrival had them hurrying from the room.
There was no time to tidy her hair or dwell on the strange emotions that left her dazed and dizzy. She was hot, so hot she could barely breathe. The pulsing between her thighs proved a dreadful distraction. Guilt joined the fray. Keen to chastise her for kissing a man while her brother lay injured in bed.
She raced downstairs.
Mr Flynn followed, his proximity stirring the hairs on her nape.
She stood in the hall, brushing creases out of her dress and patting her hair—dreading the moment she locked eyes with Aaron.
Kingsley opened the door, and her heart wrenched in two.
