Page 25 of The Danger of Desire
“Really?” He stepped closer. “And what do you think will happen if you’re discovered playing Jack Jones in the gaming hells? Scandal isn’t the best way to ensure anyone’s future.”
“On the contrary, it wouldn’t affect my life in the least, since I don’t intend to marry.” At least not until she found the man who’d ruined her brother and made him pay the money back.
“You really mean it. You don’t want to marry,” he said, with the usual male skepticism that always grated. “Ever.”
“You of all people shouldn’t find that odd. You’ve shown no evidence thatyouwish to marry.”
“Ah, but I can satisfy my desires without marrying.Youcannot.”
Desires—hah! “I don’t care about that,” she said, and meant it. “It’s not the same for women as for men, you know. We don’t feel... things like that.”
The few times she had, she’d been alone with her daydreams about daring soldiers and noble knights of old. But in real life, she’d never felt anything for the gentlemen she encountered. Even the few who’d initially attracted her had proved disappointingly ordinary.
Except Lord Knightford.
She scowled. Well, of course she would find the witty and devastatingly handsome Lord Knightford compelling, but that didn’t matter. He would never consider marrying her; he’d made that quite clear. Nor did she want to marry a man who would probably go on whoring and deceive his wife about it.
“You actually believe that women don’t feel desire,” he snapped, as if he found that some sort of personal affront.
“Absolutely.” When she realized Lord Knightford was eyeing her as if she’d just grown a third arm, she added defensively, “Brilliana says that the ‘pleasures of the marital bed’ are pleasurable only for the men. A wife just has to put up with relations.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. That may say more about your brother and sister-in-law’s marriage than about the ‘pleasures of the marital bed.’ ” When she blinked at him, he leaned closer. “Tell me, Miss Trevor, have you ever even been kissed?”
That brought her up short. “I can’t believe we’re having this highly inappropriate conversation.”
“Why not? We always have inappropriate conversations. It’s why I find you so charming. Answer the question.”
“Of course I’ve been kissed. But—”
“I should have said, kissedproperly.”
She slanted a wary glance at him. Her two kisses had both been distinctly unpleasant. Granted, one had been with a fortune hunter who’d taken her by surprise, but she’d rather fancied the other gentleman. Until he’d done some disgusting thing with his tongue and taught her that kisses sounded much better in stories than they were in reality.
Though she ought to lie and say she had been kissed properly, she suspected he wasn’t referring to propriety. And the idea that kisses could be done wrong fascinated her. “What do you mean,properly?”
He glanced across the street to where her aunt stood in the window watching them. “I’m afraid there’s only one way to explain that.”
Before she could react, he tugged her into the midst of a circle of tall shrubs that hid them both from view. “I figure we have about ten minutes before your aunt sounds the alarm and we are interrupted.” He flashed her a smile that hinted he could introduce her to secret, enticing temptations with the snap of a finger. “Fortunately, I’ll only need a few.”
He didn’t snap his finger. He kissed her.
And it was nothing like those previous kisses. It wasn’t too hard or too soft. His lips were warm enough to heat hers, his breath smelled like oranges, and his closeness made something stop in her heart. The way he possessed her mouth was almost...
Enjoyable. All right,veryenjoyable.
She enjoyed how he toyed with her lips, how he gripped her waist with the confidence of a man used to taking charge. She enjoyed the heady feeling of doing something rather naughty, and the unfamiliar swirling in her belly that made her want to go up on tiptoe and kiss him back.
Lord, what was she doing, falling under his spell so easily?
She broke the kiss. “My lord, please—”
“My friends call me Warren.” Catching her head in his hands, he ran a thumb over her lips.
She fought the sudden racing of her pulse. “I’m not your friend.”
“But you’ll call me Warren, won’t you, Delia? At least in private.”
“We are not going to be in private ag—”
