Nathaniel’s footsteps in the hallway faded, she sat back in her chair and exhaled a breath. For a long moment she didn’t move, and neither did Mr. Cushman. She knew she shouldn’t care what he thought about Nathaniel’s kiss, but she did. When she chanced a glance at him, he raised his brows at her, giving her a glimpse at the mirth lighting his eyes.
Did he think her moment of passion with Nathaniel was funny? Her ire rose swiftly and pushed her to her feet. “I fail to see the humor in this situation.”
His lips quirked into one of his rare grins.
She clenched her fists and stomped across the room. “It’s not funny. Stop laughing at me.”
“I’m not laughing.” Even though he rapidly smoothed away his grin, his eyes still flickered with amusement.
She stopped in front of him, every nerve in her body sizzling. “How dare you poke fun at my first kiss.” She was half-tempted to reach out and slap his face.
“That was your first kiss?”
At the disbelief on his face, embarrassment returned in a rush, and she wished she could take back the words. Instead, she straightened and tried to bring some dignity back to the moment—one she hoped to cherish for the rest of her life. “It was a nice kiss.”
“Nice?” His tone was disparaging and only irked her all the more.
“As a matter of fact, it was very nice.”
“Kisses aren’t meant to be nice.” His tone dropped, as did his gaze—to her lips. For only the flicker of an instant. But it was long enough to send heat spilling through her middle in a way she’d never experienced before.
When his gaze returned to hers, the dangerous slant of his eyebrows told her that his kisses would be far from chaste and proper. The glance was all it took to make her draw in a quick, dizzying breath. If he could elicit this kind of response by simply looking at her lips, what would it be like to kiss him? The mere thought made her tremble.
As if sensing her reaction, one side of his mouth cocked up again.
“Ooh,” she said in exasperation, unable to stop herself from pushing his chest.
He captured her wrists in one hand and easily pinned her. The diamonds surrounding the sapphire on her engagement ring sparkled, as if reminding her to move away from him. She ignored the ring and the faint voice of reason murmuring in the back of her head.
“I guess you think you’re the expert on kissing,” she said hotly, “just as you’re the expert on everything else.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you asked all the young ladies you’ve kissed for their opinions?”
“I don’t need to ask.” His response came in a whisper that did funny things to her stomach. His attention once again shifted to her lips, and this time it stayed there.
“Maybe you should.” She couldn’t keep from studying his lips in return. They were firm and determined, and she knew without a doubt his kiss would be nothing like Nathaniel’s. Suddenly she wanted Mr. Cushman to kiss her. The desire for it rose strongly, unlike anything she’d felt for her other beaus. As if drawn by a will she hadn’t known she had, she swayed against him so that his face was only inches from hers, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
His grip on her wrists tightened and his breath quickened. He hesitated and then dipped his head closer. He was going to kiss her. She felt his desire for it in every taut muscle of his body.
She closed her eyes and waited in exquisite anticipation for his not-so-nice kiss. Her middle was flipping wildly, anticipating the first crushing touch—for she knew it would be hard and demanding. A man like Mr. Cushman was incapable of anything less.
For a torturous moment he didn’t move.
She cracked open one eye only to find that he was studying her again with humor flickering in his expression.
“I don’t need your opinion,” he stated, releasing her wrists and propelling her back several paces.
She stared mutely, uncomprehending.
“I won’t kiss you, Victoria.” His voice was all steel. Gone was any trace of longing, almost as if she’d dreamt it in the first place. Maybe she had.
“You might enjoy trifling with other people’s emotions,” he continued, “but I don’t.”
Trifle with emotions? Was that what he thought she was doing? Before she could think coherently enough to offer a response, he dealt another low blow.
“You’re practically married. You shouldn’t want to kiss me