She most certainly had. She was profoundly shaken. She still felt a strange quivering between her thighs, a restless ache low in her feminine center.
She took a deep, unsettled breath. “It is no matter.”
When she struggled to extricate herself from his arms, Deverill released her, but when she turned for the door, his query brought her up short. “Have you considered resuming where we left off?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze narrowing. “You are making game of me.”
“No.”
A tangible desire shimmered between them, filling the air. It took Kate all of her willpower to shake her head. She would not make a fool of herself again. At least she earnestly hoped not.
“There is no chance of resuming where we left off,” she finally replied.
“None?”
“No, none. Whatever feelings I had for you are all in the past.”
“All of them?”
Kate swallowed hard, not wanting to answer. “Enough of them. In any case, there will be no more kissing, my lord. You will behave like a civilized gentleman, not a pirate, or I cannot continue. Our agreement will be strictly a business arrangement.”
“You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I do. I will expect you at eleven tomorrow.”
She turned then and fled across the room. Scrambling out the door, she shut it quickly behind her and stood there breathing heavily. Heat flushed her body, while her lips still tingled with sensation.
For a moment, Kate closed her eyes, chastising herself for giving in to Deverill so readily. Then she realized she would be seen if someone happened upon her.
Fortunately the corridor was deserted. Reaching up to make sure her wig was not askew, she hurried down the hallway, toward the servants’ narrow back staircase in search of her trusted coachman who awaited her on the street.
Just as her endeavor six years ago, this encounter with Deverill had been an abject failure also. She had hoped to prove her indifference, but she’d only confirmed that her witless captivation still existed.
Willing her racing pulse to slow down, Kate muttered a vivid oath. She simply must forget this regrettable incident and pretend it had never happened.
The trouble was, Brandon Deverill was the most compelling, most unforgettable man she had ever met. And his devastating kiss just now had refreshed her memory in spades.
—
Pirates. As he stared at the closed door, Brandon shook his head in bemusement. Leave it to Kate to surprise him. She was the most unpredictable woman of his acquaintance, but even so, he hadn’t expected her proposition just now—trading her matchmaking skills for his potential protection from French pirates.
His reaction to kissing her was no surprise, however. Voicing an oath, Brandon adjusted his breeches in an attempt to tamp down the lustful ache in his body and turned away from the door. Get hold of your urges, man.
At least two questions were now settled in his mind. He’d wanted to see if Kate was as special as he remembered, and the answer was an emphatic “yes.” And the attraction blazing between them was as combustible as ever—he’d proven it to them both. All his male instincts told him Kate wasn’t as indifferent as she pretended, either, which spawned numerous other intriguing reflections.
In an effort to distract himself, Brandon fetched a leather satchel from his valise and pulled out a sheaf of documents. He glanced briefly through the lot, mostly correspondence with his late uncle’s solicitor regarding his inheritance.
He wasn’t particularly eager to assume the barony, knowing it would require a vast change of lifestyle. He’d left England with grave reluctance six years ago, to honor his duty to family and country, but now he finally was free to follow his own inclinations for his future. He hadn’t yet settled on a specific course, beyond determining if he wanted Kate for his wife. Which had meant taking advantage of the moment to kiss her. He’d purposely caught her off guard, knowing she would refuse his advances otherwise, given how they had parted.
He’d needed all his willpower to release her. No doubt his keen response was even stronger because he knew what charms lay beneath her male-servant’s attire. He knew what her bare breasts looked like, how perfect her lithe, naked body was. Even garbed as a lad, with her masses of glorious hair hidden beneath a powdered wig, she was just as bewitching as ever. She had flame-dark hair and warm green eyes and a mouth made for sinning.
Brandon blew out a breath and raked a hand through his own hair. He thought he’d overblown Ka
te’s impact in his mind. That war, blood, pain, and guilt had warped his memories. But she was the same bold beauty he recalled, intensely vibrant and so full of life, she made him come alive.
He wanted her in his bed, that was for certain.
He’d felt desire for Kate from the very first. Isabella had spoken about her for years—and warned him that few men were able to handle Lady Katharine Wilde. He’d expected a willful, independent belle, but upon finally meeting her when she was seventeen, she had unexpectedly entranced him. Admittedly, her adventurous, lively nature had attracted him even more than her physical attributes. Kate was fresh, direct, honest, spirited….The very opposite of the dull debutantes he usually encountered.