Page 5 of Her Wicked Longing
“It is,” Miss Beaumont admitted. “What do you enjoy reading, LordPembroke?”
“Well…” He paused to think as they both studied the titles stacked neatly on the shelves. “I like a bit of everything. It’s good to be well versed in many things, but I suppose I like a bit of poetry most, aside fromnovels.”
“Poetry?” Miss Beaumont’s blue-gray eyes grew wide. “Most gentlemen of my acquaintance have no patience forpoetry.”
“A pity for them. Poetry is a window to a person’s soul. With just a few words, a great writer can move mountains. I read it when I need to find a place of strength.” He realized he was revealing far more of himself to this woman than he hadintendedto.
“And who do you read that gives you strength?” sheasked.
“John Donne. A bit old-fashioned, I know, but there’s somethingabouthim…”
Miss Beaumont lingered close to the shelf, her eyes drifting as she recalled a passage byDonne.
Let maps to others,worlds on worlds haveshown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, andisone.
His shock wasmomentary as he recognized Donne’s “The Good-Morrow,” and he couldn’t help butreply.
If our twoloves be one, or thouandI
Love so alike that none do slacken, nonecandie.
She shivered,and he felt it too, a wildness that skittered beneath his skin until it created a lingering sense of chills along his arms and the back of his neck. How alike they were, and how strange he had never met her before now. How was it possible? He’d met nearly every woman in London of marriageable age, from debutantes to aging spinsters. But he had never once glimpsed this beauty from across aballroom.
“Sometimes it is nice to escape one’s daily life, don’t you agree?” Miss Beaumontasked.
Escape her daily life? James couldn’t help but wonder what about her daily life was poor enough that she longed for escape. Then again, he’d heard Letty often complain about what little women had to do during a day. Shopping, riding, paying calls, the dreaded embroidery hoop… Perhaps Miss Beaumont found it tedious as well. His esteem grew for this quiet, intelligentbeauty.
“Er… Yes. I feel that way too.” It was true enough. Sometimes he wished he was happily married and settled down, but his duties to his title and his estate rarely let him have a moment for himself. One of his few indulgences was belonging to a rather elite underground gathering known as the Wicked Earls’ Club. Aside from his time spent at the club, he did his best to behavehimself.
“Ah.” Gillian paused in front of him and used a gloved fingertip to pull a book out of its shelf and examine the title page. “Foundit.”
James plucked the book from her hands, delighting in her little gasp as she tried to takeitback.
“Oh please, give it back!” She lunged for it, and he danced out of reach. When she gave up, he grinned and skimmed through the first fewpages.
“Well, this chap doesn’t waste any time. Listen to this.” He chose a passage, speaking in a deep baritone, pretending to be the hero. “Lady Gloria lay prostrate on the bed, listening to the sounds of rain on the gables and dreading the moment her captor, the Earl of Blackacre, would come. When he’d kissed her in the corridor only one hour before, their passionate embrace had promised dark, delicious things, and she’d been unable to resist him…” James trailed off, his words ending in a silkenwhisper.
Miss Beaumont had stopped trying to reach for the book, their bodies mere inches apart, her face tilted up to his. An energy rippled through him to her in that moment. Her face was a delightful rosy red, and her lips were parted inshock.
“Shall I continue?” he asked, stepping closer. He was damn tempted to steal a kiss, no matter how scandalous itwouldbe.
Chapter3
Gillian couldn’t breathe.James was reading a torrid part of a novel in public, and she was mortified…and she didn’t want him to stop. It had nothing to do with the story and everything to do with his hypnotic voice. Her heart was racing, and she could only stare at James’s lips in utter fascination. So this was what it felt like to long for a man—and it was indeed a longing…awickedone.
“Shall I continue?” he asked again, moving closer. Gillian glanced around the little bookshop. They had wandered into a dim corner as they talked where no one could see them. Her heart gave another wild set of beats as she licked her lipsnervously.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he cautioned her gently as he closed the book and set it on the shelf ledge byhiship.
“Do what?” She tried to back up, but her bottom hit a shelfbehindher.
“Lick your lips. It makes a man wonder how you taste, how you feel…” He reached up, cupped her cheek, and stroked the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. The touch burned in the mostdeliciousway.
“Lick my…” She processed his words and thengasped.
James chuckled. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, but Lord you are tempting me.” He lifted her chin up and then lowered his head until their mouths were inchesapart.
