Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,36

that. She never wanted to do that.

Her fingers slid up further, up to his strong shoulders and then dipped onto his chest, her palm tickling from the hair there. Her other hand was at his waist, and she ran her hand around his side to the small of his back. His skin was warm, and smooth, covering planes of muscles she seriously doubted she had. Or if she did have those muscles, they were not nearly as well developed as his.

Just imagining everything he could do with those muscles made her shiver.

She felt a spark of rebellion curl inside her, a dangerous, wicked flame that made her want to do everything that had been previously forbidden.

Even though those things were also currently forbidden, what with her being a single lady of great fortune now. Even more forbidden. Because a forgotten servant could do all sorts of things, have all kinds of freedoms, not that Ana Maria had ever taken advantage of that.

Perhaps she should take advantage. Or more advantage. Perhaps this should be the moment when Ana Maria, suddenly thrust into the spotlight, didn’t shy away from it, but took it. Did what she wanted to, when she wanted to.

So she did what she wanted to. She moved the hand at the small of his back down onto his arse, which was hard, like the rest of him, curving into the palm of her hand.

And he groaned into her mouth, holding her arms to steady her as she was still up on her tiptoes, their mouths fused together, their bodies pressed together, her whole self feeling lit up by touch.

Touching him, his touching her, their bodies touching.

It was almost too much.

And then, as she was losing herself in his kiss and her roiling emotions, he pulled away suddenly, harshly, his expression aghast.

Making her doubt the wisdom of starting all this in the first place.

She swallowed as he stared at her, his dark eyes seemingly filled with despair and confusion and horror.

No, please, she wanted to say. Don’t look at me that way. Don’t ruin this moment by regretting what I’ve done.

“I started it,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound like her voice; it was lower, breathier, and made it sound much more damning than she meant.

“I started it,” she said again, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze head-on. Her voice sounded more normal now. “I apologize I took advantage of you—”

At which he snorted, but didn’t say anything.

“But I thought I should learn some things, and I have always wondered what it would be like.” With you, she didn’t add. She shrugged. “And I wanted someone I could trust to teach me, someone it wouldn’t mean anything with.” She paused, trying to slow her beating heart. “And now I know.”

She took a deep breath and dragged her gaze away from his, focusing on looking just past his shoulder. Much easier. “I will have a glass of water, and then perhaps we can work on some of my defensive maneuvers? Now that I know what I am in danger of having happen to me.”

“It’s not—” he began, then shook his head.

She waited, but he didn’t continue; instead, he looked grim, raking a hand through his hair. He was still bare to the waist, and she allowed herself a quick peek at all that glorious expanse of male chest.

He really should pose for a statue. But his body wasn’t godlike. It was entirely man-made, formed by his own strength. She could see him as Hercules, or Hephaestus, a powerful brute of a man vaunted for his power and perseverance.

“Stop looking at me like that.” His voice was ragged.

She started guiltily. “Like—?” she asked.

“Like you want to finish what we started.” He shook his head again. “We can’t, Ana Maria. There are so many reasons why we can’t.” He sounded desperate, nearly forlorn, and she felt even worse for luring him into the kiss in the first place.

“It didn’t mean anything,” she said firmly. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, and we won’t tell anybody, and we can make certain it doesn’t happen again.” She spoke in her “well now that’s decided” tone, and she hoped it would convince him, even though she knew full well she wasn’t convinced—it meant something, it meant everything, and it was already breaking her heart that she couldn’t let it happen again.

Not because she didn’t want it to, of course, but because she cared about him too much to allow him to have that look on