Page 48 of A Bet with a Baron

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But he made a low shushing sound in his throat. “It’s all right,” he murmured against her skin at the base of her neck.

All right? It was so much better than that. She twined her fingers into the hair that whispered over his collar, sliding the tips up into his scalp.

His lips hummed against her jaw as he worked his way back toward her mouth. Kneading her breast, he intermittently brought the pad of his thumb over the stiff peak of her nipple.

When his mouth came back over hers, he parted her lips open again, his tongue tangling with hers as she pulled him closer. She couldn’t get enough.

Finally, he pulled away, his breath warm as he panted, his face staying just a few inches from hers as his eyes stared into hers. They were darker now, full of the same lust that surely filled her own.

She pressed her fingertips into his scalp. “I don’t want to stop. Kiss me again.”

A liquid-hot smile tugged at his lips as he bent down, flicking his tongue on the skin just behind her ear. “I don’t either, but we must.”

“Why?” she gasped as more tendrils of pleasure curled inside her. “I want to kiss you like you are kissing me. I want to feel your skin. I want—”

He groaned, cutting her off. “Mirabelle. I am trying to be a gentleman here.”

She only laughed. It came out a bit breathless and wanton, but when she looked into his eyes, they were filled with what she wanted. Passion. Tenderness.

“But…” She skimmed her hands over his neck and jaw until she held his face in hands. “I’m no lady.”

She knew the invitation she’d just issued. And he understood too. She’d not thought it possible, but his gaze heated further until he captured her mouth again in another scalding kiss that left them both panting for breath.

Finally, he tore his mouth from hers. “Mirabelle. Try to understand. Not only are you most definitely a lady…you’re my lady.”

“Oh.” Those words left her speechless.His lady. It wasn’t another proposal. But it was a declaration and this time, it didn’t make her worried or afraid, it filled her with satisfaction. She was his lady and she intended to stay that way.

Which was why she allowed him to ease back, his thumb brushing over the tender skin of her bottom lip as he sat them both up straighter.

“I know we have a great deal to discuss,” he said as his thumb stopped at the corner of her mouth. “But for tonight, we should finish dinner and know that we’ll meet again.”

“Again?” she asked, her breath catching. Was this a promise? “Where?”

“I don’t know. Mayhap the hall that leads to the attic? Or the shed by the garden or even…”

But she turned to kiss the pad of his thumb. She had the distinct urge to take the entire digit into her mouth. How would it taste? “Promise?”

“Promise,” he answered and then she did slide her tongue over his skin, her eyes fluttering closed. His rougher skin against her lips made her tremble. She wanted more.

* * *

Pryinghimself away from Mirabelle might have taken more discipline than anything he’d ever done. She’d been so perfect in his arms. Passionate, responsive…

He closed his eyes as he remembered every touch, the feel of her skin.

Scrubbing his face, he tried to think of something else. His strategy relied on patience. He was going to woo her, not ruin her. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her reputation in any way…even if he was to marry her later. She’d wanted to be a proper lady before, and even without a season, she still could marry him and be well-regarded by theton.

But he hadn’t planned on her being so…molten in his arms. He remembered the moment she’d sucked his finger into her mouth. Tension pulled at him as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He was playing to win but so was she. The problem?

Somewhere the game had shifted.

What did she want? Because Mirabelle always played to win.

“What’s the matter?” Ace asked from the doorway.

Ace was not the man he wished to see as he fantasized about all kinds of depravity involving the man’s sister. He tried to push those thoughts aside to face the marquess.

Ken dropped his hands as he looked up at the entrance of the room. “Tired, is all.” But as he focused his gaze, he realized Ace wasn’t the only man standing near the door.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Historical