Rules of Passion (Greentree Sisters 2)

Marietta had grown impatient with him long before he had finished his little speech. “You are being far too practical and pragmatic. Don’t you have any imagination at all, Max?”

“No, but I’m sure you have enough for both of us.”

She sighed and sat back in her chair, glaring at him. “This isn’t working,” she muttered to herself.

“I told you—”

“I won’t give up.”

The determination in her voice caused him to make a sound between a laugh and a groan. “You really are unstoppable, aren’t you?”

Marietta pretended to consider it. “I don’t know. I’m young yet. Perhaps one day something or someone will come along who will be able to stop me. Gerard nearly did. But not you, Max, and not yet. Are you going to cooperate?”

“Have I any choice?” he said darkly.

She smiled, dazzling him. “Not really.”

Max wondered once again how he could have fallen into the clutches of Marietta Greentree. There he was, innocently going about his business, and then Miss Blue Eyes appeared upon the scene, and nothing could ever be the same again. He was about to commence an affair with a beautiful blonde who kept him awake at nights. The truth was, he hadn’t a chance of resisting her—she just didn’t know it yet because she was too innocent.

And there was his problem, really. He had been brought up a gentleman and gentlemen didn’t seduce innocents—even innocents whose reputations were in tatters.

Abruptly Marietta stood up and, before he could struggle to his feet, leaned over him, her face very close to his. Curiously he stared back at her, wondering what she would do next and hoping he could bear it with fortitude. After a moment he found himself thinking that her skin was really very fine, like cream, and her eyes were the clearest blue he had ever seen, framed by those curling lashes so much darker than her hair. And her mouth, like a bow with a curl at the edges, always trembling on the verge of a little smile. Oh yes, he found her mouth endlessly fascinating and extremely kissable.

His breathing had quickened—he felt his chest rising and falling. How had that happened? He clenched his hands upon the chair arms to stop himself from reaching out for her, but

she had already stepped back, frustration in every line of her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she wailed. “I’m relying on you, Max, to show me what to do! You promised. I thought a gentleman never broke a promise?”

Somehow he kept his face bland. “You are playing the part of the courtesan, Marietta, surely the seduction is in your hands? I am not the one who needs to practice, after all.”

She gave him a belligerent stare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Max? Frustrating me like this, being a stick in the mud. It’s probably what you do best.”

He didn’t deny it.

She walked around him, her skirts swishing, her pretty vivacious face set in stubborn lines. “Max, I’m relying on you, I really am. At least kiss me—show me how to do it properly. At least do that. You kissed me last time I was here.”

“You caught me in a weak moment, Marietta,” he said.

“Then pretend this is another one.” She came to a halt in front of him, her hands on her hips. “Please.”

He wanted to say no. He should say no. But she was so woebegone, and it was so ridiculous, a beautiful young woman begging him to kiss her. Max heard himself say, “If you insist,” and then thought that that was even more preposterous.

But it was too late to change his mind.

With a smile of triumph, Marietta leaned in to him and planted her lips firmly on his. And stayed there. It was, he thought, like being held prisoner by an angel fish. Oh God, she didn’t even know the basics of kissing a man—hadn’t he taught her that, the man who had ruined her? Was Max going to have to show her everything?

Kiss her, you want to, don’t you! She’s asking you to for God’s sake, so do it.

Gently, Max lifted his hands and rested them against her shoulders, pushing her back just a little, enough for him to be able to speak. “A kiss is more than just touching lips,” he murmured. “You have to caress with your mouth. Feel the other person, nibble and suck and even bite, gently. Like this.” And then, like a fool, he proceeded to show her, using his lips against hers in the most delicate, and yet the most intimate, of ways.

Her mouth was soft and uncertain, but definitely not reluctant. He flicked his tongue across the surface of her bottom lip, and then drew it into his mouth. She made a little sound in her throat as if she liked it, and promptly did the same to him. He pressed deeper, his tongue now inside her mouth, not aggressive, but seeking out her own. Tentatively, then with growing confidence, she followed his lead.

How long since he had kissed a woman like this? There had been a time when he thought only of women and the mutual pleasure being with them could bring. He’d earned himself something of a reputation, although that hadn’t stopped the matchmaking mamas’ pursuit of the Duke of Barwon’s only son. But lately…sexual pleasure had become little more than a quick tumble, a moment’s release from his troubles, and soon forgotten.

This was different. Marietta Greentree was different, and he didn’t understand why and he was beginning to think that even if he did, it was too late to fight it.

When at last he broke off their kiss, Marietta’s eyes were closed. She was bending over him, with her palms resting heavily against his chest, and her lips parted and flushed from his. “Oh,” she breathed, with the flattering air of one who understood everything now.