Christmas in The Duke's Arms by Grace Burrowes & Carolyn Jewel & Miranda Neville & Shana Galen

Author:Grace Burrowes & Carolyn Jewel & Miranda Neville & Shana Galen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance, England, Anthology, Regency Romance, Regency England, Love Story, Romance, Regency Britain
ISBN: 9781937823337
Publisher: cJewel Books
Published: 2014-10-11T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

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Curiosity had separated her from good sense. Curiosity and a powerful longing to touch him. If they hadn’t been so close, him with an arm around her and her with her hands in his thick, soft hair—not at all coarse, as she’d wondered—she wouldn’t have dared. Plainly, quite plainly, he’d thought about this, too, or they’d not have ended up with her near enough to him to have touched his mouth with hers.

And?

And nothing.

He did nothing.

She put a hand to his chest and tipped her head back, waiting for the humiliation to pass, settling in herself the fact that she had misjudged their situation and his words. She tilted her head down, staring at the green fabric of her bodice, then at her fingertips on his breast. She would have to look at him. Not yet. Not yet.

His palm pressed against the small of her back. Deliberate, since she felt the flex of his biceps. She looked at him, and his eyes locked with hers, and she could not breathe for the need she saw there. A thousand thoughts flashed through his eyes, and he kept them all to himself. She had never known such a self-contained man, so few words and now none when she desperately needed them from him. His arms remained around her still.

She said, “Tell me if you want me to kiss you again, or if we must agree it did not happen. Tell me that much.”

“Again, Edith.”

She did. She leaned in again and kissed him, another light touch of her lips to his, before she drew away. “Like that?”

He shook his head. That was almost a smile. Almost.

“What could you mean, I wonder.” She wound her hand around the back of his neck, above the collar of his coat. The world changed. Everything different. Everything new. Magical. She kissed him again. She smelled the outdoors. Him.

His arms were around her, his mouth under hers. More than a slide across his lips this time. At the last minute, his lower lip caught hers, and her life changed forever. Again.

Her body tingled, her chest tightened, she could not feel her knees. This was no game. No harmless flirtation. She went taut with need. She melted against him, tipped her head to his, and pressed her mouth against his. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, and she could not get enough of this ascension of her body into longing.

Had she really thought he would be as controlled in kissing as he was in everything else? How could she have? He cupped the back of her head, and she opened her mouth. She’d only ever kissed one other man. One lover. One devastation of her heart, and then Oxthorpe kissed her back. Not a game. Not something to be indulged and forgotten.

There was no mistaking his physical state, and they froze, the two of them, when she brushed a hand across the middle of the buttons on the left side of his breeches. He drew breath,

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