Page 55 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
His mind went blank as his blood roared in his ears.
Yes. This.
Always this.
Heat suffused him and he ached to wrap her in his arms, to crush her to him, but he understood deep down that this was not his moment.
This was hers.
Whatever this was...she needed to do it.
And so, he stood still, only letting his hands come to her cheeks to cup her face as he met her soft, gentle, searching kiss with one of his own.
Too quickly, she pulled away, a dazed look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips.
“Why...” He sounded as dazed and addled as a fool. How? Why? By what good fortune? He had too many questions. He settled for, “To what do I owe this honor?”
Her stunned look morphed into a glorious smile and she let out a huff of laughter. “Because I’ve never been kissed before, and...that seemed like a shame.”
“It’s a travesty.” He brushed a thumb over her lower lip. “These lips were meant for kissing.”
She smiled. “Really? I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“It was the best kiss of my life,” he said. “I’ll remember it forever.”
Her brows drew together and she searched his eyes for teasing, but she’d find none.
That was the truth, and the truth was...
What? Terrifying?
Exhilarating?
Life altering. Yes, that was it. This slip of a girl had come into his life and turned it upside down without even trying.
“I’m a lucky man that you chose me for your first kiss,” he said.
“You make it sound like I just chose you because you happened to be standing here,” she said, her tone filled with laughter. “I chose you because...”
She hesitated, and her cheeks went pink.
He thought for a moment she might lose this spectacular bravery she’d only recently discovered but she recovered with a deep breath and a tremulous smile.
“I kissed you because I like you.”
And that was it. That was the moment his heart was lost forever. He knew as much, but perhaps he wasn’t as brave as she was, because he defaulted to laughter rather than an earnest confession. “You just like me for my intrigue.”
She laughed.
“Not just that,” she assured him. And his heart thudded wildly when she met his gaze and said, “I like the way you make me feel.”
He leaned down, his fingers lightly tracing her jaw, her cheeks, his nose grazing hers. He was much too close.
This was dangerous in the extreme, for so many reasons.
But he couldn’t drag himself away if he’d tried. “How do I make you feel?”
“Like someone else.” Her brows drew down right away as if annoyed by her response. “No, that’s not right. I feel like me, but a me I’ve never known before. You make me want to be brave. You make me want to...to write my own story rather than live out others’ adventures.”
