“Ah. That’s too bad. I’d hoped to gain your notice.”
What exactly did that mean?
Ivan wound the leash around his legs another time in his quest to chase a squirrel.
“The Stormes are difficult to ignore.”
Her eyes lit with a gleam that would surely spell disaster for someone. “That’s quite true.” She dared to bat her eyelashes. “I think you’ll find I’m even more so.”
Oh, dear Lord.There was no doubt in his mind she was experienced in flirting. “Yes, well.” His laugh sounded slightly desperate. “In light of what you have shared with me, I shudder to think how you feel about me, the son of an earl, a man who will someday hold that title.” Merely uttering that fact aloud sent ice into his veins. Would their budding relationship end before it got started?
“You’re not the earl yet.”
“No, I am most certainly not.” Thank goodness for that.
“And the rest of my opinion largely depends on how you’ve planned to move forward with our… friendship.” One of her dark brown eyebrows inched upward in challenge.
“Clever girl.” But before he could say anything else, Ivan darted after one of the swans. Because the leather leash was wound about his legs, when the dog moved, Royce didn’t. Instead, he fell over like a toppled tree with a strangled, “Argh!”
Isobel’s laughter tinkled through the air. “Ivan!” She kneeled at Royce’s side and tried to disentangle the leather leash from his legs, but the dog thought all the attention should be on him, so he jumped between them both, licking and happily barking, which prevented any work on the lead. “Oh, this is impossible.” She held onto Ivan’s collar, and with a few tugs undid the leash. “Don’t go far.”
The dog shot away toward the Serpentine without a moment’s hesitation.
“What the devil is wrong with that dog?” Royce struggled into a seated position. He met Isobel’s gaze, caught the amusement and perhaps longing in those blue pools, combined with her springtime dress, and it tangled with the growing awareness he had for her. With a stifled groan, he slid a hand to her nape. She looked so innocent yet all too tempting sitting there as cheerful and undeniable as a daffodil. “Forgive the trespass,” he murmured and then he claimed her lips, for she’d quite managed to temporarily scramble his brain.
Isobel uttered a quick squeak of surprise. Surely she’d been kissed before; she was a practiced flirt after all, but she rested her hands on his shoulders and promptly returned his kiss. While she moved gently over his mouth in exploration, he mimicked her, adding a few nips and licks to the mix. Those petal soft pieces of flesh cradled his, pressed against his with increasing urgency that lit tiny fires in his blood. Certainly, she was no inexperienced miss, at least in kissing, and in many ways, it was refreshing to not need provide instruction. Miss Isobel Storme continued to intrigue the hell out of him. The more the introduction continued, the greater he wanted to deepen the kiss.
But not now, not here. She didn’t need the additional scandal, and neither did he even though from all the rumors, she walked the razor’s edge of that.
Uttering a groan of regret, Royce pulled away. His pulse raced. When was the last time he’d had such a reaction to a woman? He searched her face for any signs of annoyance or outrage, but there was only amusement and that same mischievous glint, as if she had secret knowledge, she hadn’t yet shared… or she’d pull him into something all too wicked. “I—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Isobel said with a grin, yet sadness lurked deep in the depths of her eyes. Why? “I enjoyed that too much for you to attest you didn’t mean to.”
“Oh, I did indeed intend to kiss you. Absolutely there are no regrets.” He shook himself free of the leash and then stood. When he offered her a hand and she slipped her fingers into his palm, he tugged her into a standing position. Would that he could take her properly into his arms and press her against that boulder in a real embrace. Was she as fast and as daring as she wished everyone to think? “I’ll tell you this as well. I’ll do it again if given half a chance.”
Where the devil was his caution and adherence to propriety? He tamped on the urge to laugh. It was gone as if the lady herself had reached into his soul and squashed it.
“That’s incentive, indeed, to find myself once more in your company.” She set her bonnet more firmly on her head as she moved toward the Serpentine to presumably retrieve her dog.
Slight panic ricocheted through his chest, for he needed more time with her. God only knew why. “Come to the Duke of Titterbury’s home tomorrow evening. Nine o’clock. I’m conducting a cadaver exam for his guests and would like it above all things if you’d be in attendance.” It was a chance to show off his skill with a scalpel and perhaps find himself alone with her afterward. “Tell the butler you’ve been invited as my guest. Or better yet, tell William to accompany you. It will look better.”
Isobel glanced at him from over her shoulder, more bewitching than demure as she trailed the leash behind her. “Perhaps I shall. Enjoy the remainder of your day, Doctor.”