A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,20
She explored the smooth, roped muscles of his back, sliding searching hands along his sides. When she reached his shoulders, she hooked her arms on both sides and pulled up, straining closer to his mouth.
When she finally turned her head to suck in air, Shaw dropped his mouth to her exposed neck, kissing a hot trail from beneath her ear to the fluffy collar of her robe.
“This isn’t happening,” he said against her chin.
“You have a distorted view of reality,” she gasped. “I assure you, it is happening.”
“You’re afraid,” he said, reclaiming her mouth. “I’m scaring you away.”
“What?” she asked, barely hearing.
“So afraid,” he moaned.
“Wai—” she breathed, but he captured her mouth again. Helena melted into the renewed kiss. His tongue was there now, a fascinating addition to the enterprise. She hung on and tried very hard to remember what he’d just said. Softly, in the back of her mind, his words called.
You’re afraid.
Had he said this? She couldn’t remember. She dropped her head against his neck and allowed him to trace hungry kisses behind her ear. He gathered her up, scooping hands beneath her bottom and pressing her to him. Helena had the errant thought that they absolutely, positively, must do all of this again, and very soon.
Meanwhile, the more he kissed her, the louder his last mumbled statement echoed in her head.
“Wait,” she panted, breathing out the word at last.
Shaw’s mouth froze a heartbeat from hers. He made a slight choking noise. He pulled back. His expression went from hot and half-lidded to stricken and terrified.
Without thinking, she pressed a hand over his mouth exactly as he had done.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she repeated. She sounded like a stage director halting a bad scene.
Slowly, the strings of her mind began to strum like a functioning instrument. She swallowed hard. “Did you just say that I’m frightened?”
“Ah—” he stammered, his lips moving beneath her palm. He looked as if she’d doused him with cold water.
“Right,” she continued. “That’s what I thought you said. First of all, shame on you. You cannot imagine how I’ve been bullied and threatened these last five years. And now you endeavor to scare me? Thank God you’re so very bad at it. There is nothing about you that scares me. I hope this does not distress or unman you, but it’s true.” She took a deep breath. She flung her braid over her shoulder.
Shaw made another distressed sound beneath her palm, and she released him. He staggered two steps back, his brown eyes huge. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “My lady—” he rasped.
She held up a hand. “Was that it? You kissed me to frighten me away?”
“I don’t—” he began.
She continued, “If you wish to frighten me, then embody the figure of an incurious duke, sleep half the day, and stagger about at night in a drunken stupor. Have no concerns beyond your appearance and no interest beyond the next bacchanal. Then have a puppeteer uncle force us to marry. Now that would scare me.”
Shaw walked in an agitated circle and then returned to her. He pointed a finger at her. “You are too honest, in case you are not aware.” She stared at the tip of his finger until her eyes went a little cross, and he dropped it. She chuckled.
“It is not necessary,” he continued, “to share your every experience with me. I am reeling, in fact, from your great wealth of heartfelt revelations.”
“You’re angry?” she asked. “Angry? Because you failed to frighten me with a kiss? Stop.”
She shoved from the table. “I suppose I may stop worrying you think I was trying to seduce you.”
He made another choking sound. “I beg your pardon?”
She began winding her way through the carriages. “I’d asked you for the favor,” she reminded. “But I would never cajole you by . . . by doing what we’ve just done.”
“I do not feel cajoled,” he bit out.
A lone window glowed moonlight on the far wall, and she went to it. “I would never try to manipulate you through . . . er, seduction.” It could not be said enough.
“Rest easy, sweetheart, I cannot be seduced.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He did not look unseducible. His hair was tussled, his tunic was askew, his expression was strained. He looked like a bear staggering out of hibernation.
“Good,” she said. There was a door beside the window, and she hurried to it.
“I know that you know that I wasn’t plying you with my, er, charms.”