To Pleasure a Lady (Courtship Wars) - Page 16

She was contemplating that intriguing possibility when the earl suddenly changed tacks again. “Come here, Arabella,” he murmured, his voice beguiling.

Instinctively, she resisted. “Why?”

“Because I intend to claim another kiss to seal our pact.” When she stood stock-still, he prodded gently, “You agreed to let me woo you, remember?”

“I did not agree to let you kiss me.”

“But kissing is part of wooing.”

“Your sort of kisses are not! No proper suitor kisses the way you do.”

The laughter lurking in his eyes was irresistible. “I don’t mean to assault you again, I promise. I had in mind something much more pleasurable.” His voice was warm, teasing, more seductive than it had any right to be. “Come now, a simple kiss, nothing more. I won’t even embrace you. You have my word.”

But still Arabella hesitated. He had the most sensual, unsettling gaze of any man she had ever met, and it was supremely dangerous to go anywhere near him. “How can I trust you won’t take advantage of me?”

“If I try, I give you leave to darken my daylights.”

“I will, you may be certain of it.”

“I consider myself duly warned. Now, stop being so missish. It’s entirely beneath you.”

His lazy, provocative grin made Arabella’s pulse quicken alarmingly. She couldn’t believe she had let herself be lured into this perilous situation. How was she supposed to resist so charming a rogue?

“Arabella…” he said lead

ingly.

She forced her feet to move until she stood a few steps from him. His eyes were locked on hers; she couldn’t think.

When she paused, he closed the distance between them, until they were almost touching. Arabella held herself rigid, caught between dread and anticipation. She couldn’t forget the way his muscular chest had felt pressed against her breasts, the strong arms that had crushed her to him, the firm, sensual lips that had taken hers with such fiery heat.

But he merely reached down to capture her hand and bring it to his bruised jaw. His fingers encircled her wrist loosely-and there he stopped.

“Have you ever really been kissed before now, Arabella?”

She blinked at the unexpected question. “Of course I have been kissed. I was betrothed, remember?”

“I’ll wager it was a tame sort of peck.”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters greatly, if you have nothing to judge by. Your expectations must be severely depressed.”

Arabella sucked in a breath; his fingertips had found the bare skin above her glove.

“It’s a pity, really.”

“What is a pity?” she said absently. She was staring at his lips now, disconcerted by their nearness.

“That you’re a virginal innocent, with no experience in passion or physical pleasure.”

Her cheeks flooded with color. “Of course I am virginal. I am a lady, despite our family scandal. We are not our mother’s daughters.” This time she couldn’t hide her bitterness.

His blue gaze softened. “If you knew the pleasures in store for you, you wouldn’t be so quick to swear off men. You have no notion what you are missing.”

“And I suppose you are offering to show me?”

“Actually, I am.”

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
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