To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

Although, the competitive smile she was suddenly giving him made his stomach sink. “Do you know, that’s actually given me a wonderful idea.” She lifted her chin slightly.

“Oh?”

“Wesley has any number of young strapping footmen. I will simply ask one of them. I daresay someone would be helpful enough to educate me,” she said, glaring at him and beginning to walk in his direction toward the door.

Educate her? Oh, he bet they would…

Oliver reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her before she passed. He sighed as they both looked down to where his hand was holding her arm softly. “No, you will not ask anyone else.”

“I won’t?” Her voice was soft as velvet now.

“No.” He met her eyes and swallowed. “I’m going to teach you.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Elizabeth’s heart was galloping in her chest. Oliver was going to do it. He was going to kiss her.

Her legs felt weak and she was slightly worried that she might faint before he ever got the chance. This was madness and Elizabeth knew it. But—it was important. She needed this. She needed for Oliver to kiss her now, before it was too late, or else she would wonder for the rest of her life what it would be like.

Yes, inventing a ridiculous story about needing him to teach her because she was too nervous to go into a kiss with Hastings uneducated was complete lunacy. But it was safe. And it gave her a reason to kiss him without having to lay her heart on the line. It also gave him a chance—one last chance—to admit his feelings if he harbored any for her.

Elizabeth’s eyes met Oliver’s intense dark blue gaze and her legs shook again. His eyes roamed over her face as if contemplating how to proceed. She turned to fully face him, hoping to push past the awkwardness of their decision and get on with it.

“All right. Thank you,” she said squaring her shoulders to him and running her eyes briefly over the thin layer of shirt that draped over his muscular shoulders.

He looked down and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms and making her mouth go dry. Was he preparing for a boxing tournament? Why was he doing that? And how did the man manage to make comfortable look so very attractive?

Yes, she’d seen him like this dozens of times over the past ten years. He and Carver always played cricket without their jackets. And then there was the time that her brother and Oliver had shed their jackets and cravats and jumped into the lake together. She’d never been able to shake the memory of how he looked rising up out of the water. But all of those times had been much different from this one, and Elizabeth was painfully aware of it.

“Go ahead, then,” she said hastily, her nerves practically pinching her skin. Would he just kiss her already?

The tension that had marked his face since she had first stepped foot in that room fell away and a playful smirk took its place. He took a small step closer and nodded toward her head. “I’m afraid I’m not quite comfortable kissing a gentleman.”

“Oh…right,” she said, suddenly remembering how she was dressed. She looked down, knowing there wasn’t much she could do about that now. Oh! But, her hat. She lifted it off her head, feeling her hair fall in long wild coils around her shoulders. She tossed the hat onto a chair and looked back to Oliver. “Better?” she asked, wishing her voice wouldn’t crack.

“Much better,” he said in a husky tone.

Elizabeth watched as Oliver’s eyes traced her hair. Now he looked nervous. Oliver, the biggest flirt in London, looked nervous to kiss her. A small smile grew on her lips at the thought.

His jaw flexed and he turned away, his hands clenched at his sides in a way that made Elizabeth think maybe he was going to decline the kiss after all. He paced away, energy and tension coursing through him, before he turned around and started pacing to her in fast strides. Her breath

caught at the sudden determination and wildness of his eyes. They were kindling, and made her feel the need to take a few steps backward. He followed her—simultaneously advancing her back and back and back until she bumped into the wall behind her.

Oliver stopped too, so close she could smell him and see shadows on his jaw and the lines his hands had taken to push through his sandy hair. He lifted his hand and rested it on the wall behind her, making her feel trapped in the most wonderful of ways. No—not trapped, safe.

Elizabeth’s heart raced faster and her breath was falling out in shaky waves that, quite frankly, embarrassed her. But she wanted this kiss more than anything. She lifted her eyes to his. His stormy gaze held hers and the way he smelled and looked and how the air felt stiflingly warm around her all overwhelmed her senses.

This was her Oliver. Her best friend. But the way he was looking at her just then was unlike any look she’d experienced from him before, and somehow, she knew that he didn’t see her as a friend any more than she saw him as one.

His eyes fell to her lips. “A true gentleman will be mindfully considerate of a lady’s first kiss.” She swallowed. Apparently the lesson was beginning. Elizabeth pressed her hand to her stomach in attempt to still the fluttering. “He will be slow and deliberate in his movements to make sure to give the lady plenty of time to deny the kiss.” Elizabeth watched and tried to remember to breathe as Oliver began to drop his head to her level. True to his word, moving slowly—achingly slow. “If…a kiss is what you want, this is where you will need to give him an indication that the contact would be welcome.”

Before she had time to overthink it, she felt her eager hand raise up to rest on his chest. She could feel the strength of his muscles and his heart, beating every bit as quickly as hers. His gaze lowered to look at her hand pressing against him before he looked back up at her. He dropped his hand from the wall to slowly slide it into the back of her hair, flooding heat from the top of her head down to her toes. Elizabeth closed her eyes and allowed herself to memorize everything about the moment in a way that she knew would likely haunt her with pain later.

With her eyes still closed, she felt his breath on her lips, the scent of mint lingering in the air between them. “Lizzie, are you sure you want this?” he said in a whisper.

She didn’t open her eyes, just nodded.

“Then I’ll kiss you now.”