Page 37 of Lady Diana's Lost Lord
Probably she’d surmised as much only from the tension in his shoulders, the way he’d not quite been able to bring himself to open the door and walk through it. It ought to have been such a simple thing to do. It felt impossible just now, with her lips hovering so close to his ear, the heat of her body soaking through his shirt to his back. She hadn’t eventouchedhim—but she stroked him with her voice, with even the tiniest suggestion that shemighttouch him.
God, he wanted her to touch him so badly.
As if she had pulled the thought straight from his mind, her fingers curled around his shoulders. Every nerve flared to life, tingling beneath that small touch. “Really,” she murmured, “it’s the very least you could do.”
His hand slipped off of the door handle, and hers fell from his shoulders as he jerked around. “What?” he asked, indignantly. “What did you say?”
Though he had surprised her, she recovered quickly enough, pulling a mock chiding moue. “Ten years I’ve spent standing at the walls of various ballrooms. I’ve missed all of those moments I ought to have had—the flirting, the kissing.” She rolled her wrist in a blasé little gesture. “Onyouraccount.”
An incredulous laugh slipped from his throat. “You’re suggesting—what? That I make it up to you?”
“Yes.”
“No.” He bit off the word, slanting her a severe look. “You have no ideawhat you’re asking.”
A little frown caught at the corners of her lips, and her dark brows drew together. “Perhaps men would prefer for women to remain ignorant of such things, but I assure you, I have a reasonable understanding of them.” She was still too close, and the silver rims of her spectacles sparkled in the candlelight. “You have a daughter,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I would not have expected you to be quite somissishabout such things.”
Missish! “I have a care for your reputation,” he said, his irritation seeping into his voice.
“Do you know, a sterling reputation has been of little use to me thus far,” she said. “I won’t tell a soul, if that is what concerns you. It’s only that I would quite like to do it again, and I’m reasonably certain—at least Ithink—that you do, as well.”
He’d give his right arm for one more kiss, and he could never let her know. “It doesn’t matter what I want. You are going back to London, and I won’t send you home ruined.”
“I won’t be ruined,” she said. “I’ll be—exactly as I want to be. For the first time in my life.” She took a hesitant step forward, rather like she thought he might make a run for the door if she moved too swiftly.
He damned wellshouldhave done, and well he knew it. Even now he could turn, open the door, and be out in a moment. Instead he watched her good hand light upon his chest, flattening there with gentle pressure. He felt the heat of her body as she came closer still. Watched the flicker of her lashes behind the lenses of her spectacles. She turned her face up to his, her soft pink lips hovering perhaps an inch away from his own.
He was so damnedweak.
“I have spent my entire life doing the correct thing,” she whispered. “Am I not now entitled to decide for myself what I want?” Her lips brushed his just at the last, and Ben clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to hold even a single thought in his head.
“Diana,” he rasped through lips gone dry as a desert. “I am attempting to do the honorable thing. You’re making it difficult.”
Hefelther smile. “Could I make it impossible?”
“Yes, damn you.” Fool that he was, he closed that space between them, swallowing the tiny, pleased sound she made. Diana shifted closer still, and he knew what it was to have her soft breasts pressed against the wall of his chest, the firm length of her thigh flush to his. The cradle of her hips—
Best not to think about it.
His hand splayed across the small of her back, holding her against him. She gave a sweet sigh, softening against him, and every good intention he’d had evaporated like morning fog in full summer sunlight. Her arms twined around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair.
She whispered, “Iknewit.”
He could taste the smile behind the words, the satisfaction that hovered there just at the tip of her tongue. She’d won, damn her—and he’d let her do it. Worse still, sheknewshe had.
Forcing himself to release her was a difficult endeavor, and she clung like a limpet. He had to peel her away, walking her backward a few paces with strong steps and his hands on her shoulders. The edge of the chair hit her behind her knees, and she sat abruptly, held in place by the pressure of his hands.
“You are not going to seduce me,” he said, his voice clipped—but he didn’t know which of them he meant to convince. “I have entirely too much respect for you to compromise you like that.”
A giddy laugh trickled from her lips. “Could you perhaps respect me just a little less?”
He did not recognize the sound he made; something halfway between amusement and exasperation. "You—you—” Whatever he’d meant to say curdled in his throat alongside a wretched sound of exasperation. Somehow she’d reduced him to waggling a finger in her face as if she were a child in need of chastisement. “I’ve never struck a woman in my life, but damned if I’m not tempted to turn you over my knee.”
If she were wise, she would have contrived to appear chastened. Instead, she looked titillated.
Ben threw up his hands. “Go to bed, Diana.Now.” And he strode for the kitchen door before she could respond. The door slamming behind him muffled her laugh only slightly, and he scrubbed his hands over his face as he stalked toward the pond for yet another cold bath.
Probably it would serve him well to get accustomed to them.
