Page 80 of The Trouble with Tigers
“I do? I mean, we will?”
“Don’t you agree?” He stopped directly in front of her.
“I…er…yes.” She reached for her slippers.
He pulled his arm back, putting the pair just out of her reach.
She wouldn’t fight him for them. She laced her fingers together on her lap. “How do you propose we go about—how did you phrase it?—acting the part?”
Chapter Nineteen
Kitty perched on the sofa and waited expectantly for Zeke to clarify exactly how they could make a a more convincing couple for his brother and the viscount.
“We’ll spend more time together. Doing…things.” Zeke's voice had gone low and smoky.
Still holding her slippers, he crouched before her.
“Such as?” She swallowed, her eyes tracking his every move.
Without warning, he slipped his hands beneath her skirts to grasp one of her feet.
She gasped, partly from shock, and partly from the unexpected thrill of feeling his warm hands cupping her arch.
His palm skimmed upward, encircling her ankle. He squeezed gently, then slid his other hand below her foot to cup her heel. He drew the pad of his thumb over the length of her arch in a delicious sweep.
“Oh,” she uttered helplessly as the tickling sensation rippled through her. “Zeke,” she breathed, trying to pull free of his grasp. “I hardly think—”
“Hush,” he whispered. “I’m making sure you didn’t twist anything when you slipped.” His words made perfect sense, but the heat she glimpsed in his eyes told a different story.
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded.
He bent his head to his task, and his golden hair fell over his brow. He began his exploration anew, as if her interruption had caused him to lose his place.
She almost groaned from the sheer pleasure of his strong hands massaging her feet. She’d never been touched in such an intimate way, and regardless of Zeke’s stated reason for doing so, she knew she shouldn’t permit it now. Odd, delicious things were happening to her insides.
“Where was I?” he asked. Evidently finished with the one foot, he set it gently on the carpet, and reached for the other.
“Pardon?” She fought the urge to close her eyes and sink back onto the cushions.
“Ah, yes. You asked me what things we should do.”
Through her lashes she saw his lips curve in a lazy smile as his hands stroked and squeezed.
"Yes." Her limbs felt as solid as warm jelly.
“We should undoubtedly make a habit of riding together. Perhaps each morning after breakfast. During certain entertainments, we’ll team up. And…hmm.”
Kitty’s breath froze as one of his hands reached her calf, the path of his palm leaving a trail of fire. She bit her lip, unable to speak.
His brows knitted in apparent concentration. His palm moved higher, almost to her knee.
Dizzying heat spiraled through her. She should do something. Stop him. “Zeke?”
“Yes?” he whispered, his eyes at half-mast.
“I don’t think this is at all proper.”
Removing his hands from beneath her skirts, he dropped onto his knees before her. He cradled her head between his hot palms and leaned forward, his hard, muscled thighs pressing into her shins. “We are engaged to be married, are we not? We’re permitted a small amount of latitude.” His gaze fixed on her mouth, his eyes glittering with a hunger that stole her breath.
