‘Are you hurt? Have you twisted your ankle?’
‘No,’ she managed to gasp.
‘Then what is wrong?’
‘I have never been kissed before.’
‘That was not a kiss.’ His eyes seemed very dark, his voice deep.
‘No?’ Somehow she could not make herself let go of his lapels. ‘Oh. How disappointing, I have always wondered what it was like.’
‘This is a kiss.’ Ivo bent his head, pressed his lips to hers and pulled her in close to him.
It was almost as quick as that fleeting, accidental brush, but it sent tingles down to her knees and into parts that no young lady should experience tingling in an inn yard. Ivo let her go abruptly, leaving her with an impression of strength, a clean spicy scent in her nostrils and the taste of him on her lips.
He licked my lips. Is he supposed to do that?
‘I trust that has satisfied your curiosity?’ Clearly, whatever it had done for her, it had not given Ivo any pleasure, judging by his exceedingly starchy tone.
‘Quite. Thank you. I must say, I cannot imagine what all the fuss is about.’ With a dismissive sniff Jane made a little show out of checking the bag of valuables and straightening her bonnet, and was fairly confident that she was not bright pink when they emerged from the shelter of the chaise to make their way to the inn door.
Ivo was clearly not in a mood to take any nonsense from the innkeeper who began by informing them that he had no private suites, then that he might possibly find one, but at a price that made Jane blink.
‘We are here for one night only,’ Ivo said crisply. ‘My sister is tired, we require a small, quiet, private sitting room and two adjacent bedchambers at a price that would not pay for their entire refitting in Bond Street style. I had heard that the Pelican was a superior establishment, but if mine is an unreasonable request, doubtless we can find adequate accommodation elsewhere.’
It was a tone Jane had not heard from him before. There was definitely an officer’s air of command in it, but there was also a quiet confidence that he had only to state a reasonable desire for it to be gratified. Given that his clothing was disreputable, his face was discoloured with multiple bruises and he had not given name, rank or title, the confidence seemed to her to be misplaced. It appeared she was wrong.
‘Just let me check, sir. The girl may have made an error...’ The innkeeper vanished into the Pelican and Ivo turned to glance back at Jane.
‘No wonder,’ she said as she saw his face.
‘No wonder, what?’
‘That he fled to check. You look so grim he must have thought you would sack and pillage his fine establishment if he did not accommodate us.’
Ivo grunted and turned back. Probably his shoulder was hurting him, Jane thought. She could not imagine what else could have put him in such a bad mood.
* * *
‘Fortunately we appear to have had a cancellation, sir.’ The innkeeper re-emerged, clicking his fingers for the boy to carry Jane’s luggage. ‘Exactly the arrangement of rooms you requested.’
‘Good.’ Ivo checked and found that Jane was waiting meekly by his side. Doubtless she was plotting some new devilry. ‘Come along, Sister.’
What had possessed him to kiss her, even fleetingly? He could tell himself that it was the painful blow to his shoulder that had momentarily disordered his senses, but he knew perfectly well that the feel of a trim, curvaceous feminine waist under his hands, the ingenuous invitation in those wide eyes and parted lips, the disappointment when he told her that her first kiss had been no kiss at all—those had all been enough to overset his common sense.
He had never met a female so straightforward in what she wanted. There had been no flirtation, no hints and subtle encouragement. Their lips had met by accident, so her thoughts had turned to kisses—and, being Jane, she had not hidden her curiosity. This was a dangerous woman, he thought grimly as they followed on the innkeeper’s heels, up a flight of stairs and along a corridor. And an outspoken one.
‘I cannot imagine what all the fuss is about’, indeed! Women did not normally complain about the quality of his kisses, even such fleeting ones...
At which point his sense of humour caught up with him.
Your nose is out of joint, that’s what’s the matter with you, Ivo Merton. She did not swoon on to the cobbles in ecstasy and so you are offended.
And a good thing, too—what would he have done with a swooning female?
‘I think this will do excellently, provided the beds are aired.’
Ivo jerked his attention back to find Jane surveying a small parlour with a housewifely air while the innkeeper bristled defensively.