My One and Only Earl (Forever Yours #12) - Stacy Reid Page 0,16

from her.

James raked a hand through his hair. “Miss Ashford…” What the hell could he say?

“Yes?” she replied huskily, staring at him with bold curiosity. Her beautiful silver eyes were bright with desire, her lips wet and a bit swollen, her cheeks flushed a most becoming pink. The soft glow of the moonlight and a lone lantern in the distance highlighted the full curves of her young body. Quickly, he did his best not to linger on how delectable and mouth-wateringly sensual she appeared in the icy blue gown which clung to her curves like the possessive caress of a lover.

Meeting her eyes once more, James felt something pierce his heart. Poppy didn’t stare at him like she wanted to slap him for his unchecked audacity or administer a well-deserved set down. No…she looked like she wanted to kiss him again. Surprisingly, she laughed, a sweet soft sound, almost one of delight.

He had to offer an explanation. But how could he tell her that for almost two years, his dream of kissing her had haunted him, the feel of her lips just now on his jaw broke his restraint? It would sound just like a damn excuse to act the scoundrel when he knew he could not marry her. “Miss Ashford…Poppy…I—”

Bloody hell.

She kissed him, swallowing his muffled sound of surprise, swallowing his groan that echoed his terrible desire. This time she cupped his jaw in her soft, delicate hands, and though the gloves separated her skin from his, he swore he felt the heat of her palms. Before he could sink deeper into her kiss, with a moan, she pulled away.

“Well,” she said a bit breathlessly. “That was most diverting.”

“Was it?”

“Yes, as first kisses went, it was wonderful and instructional.”

Shock jolted through him. Her first kiss? A sudden rush of fierce satisfaction filled him. Should he confess that she was his first kiss in almost four years?

“Are we to indulge in lessons like these in my endeavor to secure a match?” she asked with admirable steadiness.

Amusement at her unexpected boldness rushed through him, but it was not enough to dampen the lust the little imp had caused. James tugged at his cravat, which suddenly felt too tight and cumbersome. “Kissing lessons are not necessary.”

“I have heard my sister say that a beau must be allowed to steal kisses. How else can a lady know if she finds a gentleman desirable? Even my closest friend in the country, Miss Charlotte, has kissed a suitor or two.”

He narrowed his gaze at her.

Poppy’s eyes widened. “You seem as if you want to throttle me. Is it the idea of me kissing someone else?”

Another jolt of shock hit James, and he took a step back from her. Bloody hell. “Are you always this…blunt?”

She canted her head. “No. However, I am…comfortable with you. It is surprising to me as well.”

Something warm tumbled over inside him.

Her smile softened, and amusement shifted in her eyes. “And you are also avoiding the question.”

“Of course not,” he said casually, tugging at the cravat again. “Kissing when done discreetly is a part of courtship. But not kissing like we just did. That is not for courtship.”

“As I said, that was my very first kiss,” she said, her lovely eyes glittering with the remnants of curiosity and want. “I never knew there were degrees of kissing. How fascinating.”

“There are.” This was a flat, tight reply which discouraged further conversation along this direction.

“So I must not kiss another how we just kissed. Is that what you are saying?”

“Yes,” he said quite emphatically.

“What does a kissing like that signal if not courtship?”

“Must you know?”

Her eyes lit up with provocative humor. Did the chit already know the answer and teased him?

A grin tugged at her mouth. “Yes, my lord, I must know. How else must I determine if I am to be on guard or a willing participant? Is there a manual or book of sorts with these instructions?”

Something primal pulsed inside of him, and it was the devil-may-care attitude of his youth that urged him to step closer to her and said, “Such a kiss…it is for…seduction…and ravishment. It is a kiss that communicates lust and hunger.”

James wasn’t sure what reaction he expected to that admission, but it was not the quiet way she contemplated him with that lush secret smile about her mouth.

“Ravishment,” she murmured, “I have never imagined anyone might have kissed me ravishingly. The novelty of it is quite charming.”

Then she dipped into a graceful curtsy, swept past him, and