“Convincing?” she frowned slightly.
“Mmm.” Greg spun her to face him and he tilted her chin up with the crook of his finger. “We are supposed to be in love. Have you ever been kissed before?” he asked, as his gaze drifted to her very pretty lips.
“N-no,” she breathed out, a bit nervously.
Greg suspected as much. “Close your eyes,” he directed softly. Then he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers.
* * *
Goodness. Bella’s eyes did flutter closed as Greg’s warm lips brushed against hers. Tingles raced down her spine and she had to grasp onto the edge of his jacket to maintain her balance. She’d never felt so exhilarated, so wanton, so…perfectly wonderful in every possible way.
Greg’s hand drifted to her waist and he urged her closer to him. The heat from his body warmed her through the silk of her gown. Her breasts felt heavier, her nipples tightened, and a pulse pounded in her core.
Then Greg groaned slightly against her lips, and the sound reverberated through Bella as she did her best to kiss him back. How fortuitous that Lord Sarsden needed to be convinced that they were in love. How much more convincing would he need? Hopefully, he needed more because Bella was certain she needed more.
But after a moment, Greg’s hand fell away from her back and the pressure of his lips disappeared. Bella blinked her eyes open once more to find him staring down at her with a most serious expression, almost as though he was in some sort of pain. Goodness, had she done something wrong when she’d kissed him back? Probably. She had no idea what she was doing, really.
Bella swallowed to gain her composure. She should probably apologize for her scandalous behavior but she couldn’t get those words to form on her lips. So instead she said, “Did he see us?” and sounded breathless to her own ears. But she couldn’t help it. He did take her breath away.
Greg’s gaze flashed to somewhere behind her and he sighed. “Yes, he just looked away.”
But he’d been watching them up until then? “Did we convince him, do you think?”
He glanced back down at her, his green eyes nearly stealing her breath once more. “I’m sorry if that was too forward. I wasn’t sure how else—”
“No.” Bella shook her head, not wanting to hear him apologize in any way for kissing her as it had been the most magical moment of her life. “We needed to convince him.”
“I’m nearly convinced myself.” Greg smiled down at her. “Are you ready to go back in there, face all those people again?”
Did they have to? She’d rather stay on the balustrade and kiss him for the rest of the night if that was an option. She didn’t, however, think it was. “We won’t have to stay much longer, will we?”
“You don’t care for these sorts of events?”
Bella shook her head. “I don’t generally mind them, but I don’t like having all the attention focused on me. It’s rather unnerving, don’t you think?”
“On that we can agree.” He then stepped away from her and offered his arm. “But keeping you here any longer could do real damage to your reputation. We don’t really have a choice but to rejoin them.”
She supposed he had a point. “Very well,” she said as she accepted his arm.
They rejoined everyone in the ballroom, but Greg did not relinquish his hold on Bella, which continued to make her heart flutter. What would it be like to have him court her for real? Would she feel even giddier than she did now? Was that even possible?
They strolled around the perimeter, greeting well-wishers every few steps, and Bella wished it was just the two of them, that she could talk to him without anyone overhearing them, that she could learn all there was to learn about him so that picture of him in her mind was perfectly clear, perfectly formed. But that was not to be, not with so many people crowding around them.
But tomorrow…
She’d head to Clayworth House tomorrow with her paints and canvas, and hopefully learn everything there was to learn about Gregory Avery.
“Oh good heavens!” came a scream at the same moment a loud crash sounded from the other side of the room.
Greg tightened his hold on her, and Bella’s heart nearly stopped as they looked toward the commotion. What in the world?
And then Elliott hopped up from the floor, his cravat drenched with punch and what looked like a number of cucumber sandwiches smashed against the sleeve of his jacket.
“Oh my goodness,” Bella breathed out, once again completely mortified by her brother and wishing that a hole would open at her feet and she could disappear.
“On that note,” Greg muttered, “we should probably find your father and call it an evening.”
Yes, they probably should.