Chapter Five
If any other man had kissed Diana like this, she would have slapped him. But none had ever dared to try, and that alone was a potent temptation to allow the duke’s kiss. Grenwood’s tongue delved into her mouth in slow, steady strokes that burst through her inhibitions like a buck crashing through Exmoor Forest. Her heart beat in a frenzy, and her blood pounded not only in her ears but in the places she’d touched herself last night.
So this is passion.Diana could never have guessed it to be so . . . all-encompassing, taking over her body like . . . like . . .
Her mind went blank. She had no words for this.
He paused, and she thought he might stop. She didn’t want him to stop, so she caught his head in her hands to stay him. With a groan, he renewed the kiss, and she lapped it up like cream. His hair was so soft and thick. She took a moment to riffle it, as she’d so been wishing to do. Then she let her hands slide down to rest on his broad shoulders, which were clearly not padded.
My oh my, wasn’t he a muscle-bound Adonis?
He stopped kissing her mouth, only to kiss a path over her cheek to her ear. “We should stop,” he whispered unconvincingly.
“Yes,” she said, equally so.
Now he was kissing down her jaw to her throat, and the fires it lit inflamed her, especially when he wrapped his hands around her waist to pull her close. It felt natural to have his large hands there, natural to have him brushing kisses along her neck to where her pulse beat fiercely, so fiercely. . . .
The rain came, fat drops that splattered them all over. She jerked back. “Oh, no, you’ll get your fine clothes wet!”
“I think it’s too late to avoid that.”
But he swiftly rose and tucked her sketchbook inside his coat, then grabbed her hand to draw her inside. Once they were in the morning room, he glanced around, probably to make sure no one was there. Right now, the room was dark except for the fire in the hearth, which crackled and spit as if to compete with the storm. The dark clouds blotted out the light that would normally come through the windows.
Her common sense had started to assert itself now that the potent drug of his kisses was wearing off. She should say something to prevent further overtures. Except that she didn’t want to prevent further overtures. Which made everything even worse.
Drawing her sketchbook out from beneath his coat, he offered it to her. Her hand accidentally brushed his, and he jerked back as if burned. She didn’t know whether to be insulted that he now clearly regretted touching her earlier or pleased she got such a strong reaction from him.
He ran his fingers through his inky hair, creating even more disorder in the waves that wind and rain had already ravished. Only with an effort did she resist the impulse to reach up and smooth the errant locks.
“Lady Diana, I did not mean—”
“Call me Diana,” she said softly. “Your sister already does.”
Instead of setting him at ease, that made him stiffen. “I wouldn’t presume . . . that is, I don’t want you to think that I—”
“It’s all right.” She wasn’t sure what he planned to say, but she doubted it was good.
With a deep breath, he looked her in the eye. “I don’t generally take advantage of someone in my employ,” he clipped out. “I might lack proper manners, but I’m an honorable gentleman, not a scoundrel.”
“I don’t think you a scoundrel.” She eyed him warily. “And you didn’t take advantage of anyone. I was a willing participant. Besides, our association feels more like that between equals than employer and employee.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He still sounded uneasy, though. “All the same, I apologize and assure you it won’t happen again.”
What a pity.
No, she dared not say that. She wanted to ask why “it won’t happen again,” but when she thought of other men who’d stolen kisses and then turned into octopuses when they caught her alone, she figured it was prudent not to ask. Better just to settle it now, and keep their association professional. “Of course. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Exactly.”
She couldn’t resist a small smile. “Although it does seem odd that you’re the one concerned about propriety.”
He seemed to fix his gaze on her mouth for a moment. Then he went rigid. “I must go or I’ll be late for my dinner. No need to show me out.”
When he turned and nearly ran from the room, she felt both bereft and confused. Had their kiss been that bad for him? It certainly hadn’t been bad for her. It had set all her assumptions about married life on its ear.
A voice sounded from the armchair with its back to her. “So what awful thing did our burly duke do anyway?”
Diana jumped. “Eliza! You scared the devil out of me. Were you there the whole time?”