A Lady of Persuasion Read Online Free PDF Page B

god and the morality of a satyr. It was everything right and everything wrong all at once, and Bel didn’t know what to make of it. She was so used to placing actions in one category or the other.
    She was too shocked to move, so she just—stood still.
    His lips brushed over hers in a series of slow, teasing caresses. Tender, gentle … extending every invitation but making no demands. She caught the unmistakable scent of brandy on his breath—a familiar aroma, but an as yet untested flavor. She never took spirits, and here this man’s lips were giving Bel her first taste of sin. It savored of fire. Not bitter, as she’d always imagined it would taste, but raw and potent. The flavor opened all her senses, awakened her entire body to the light pressure of his mouth against hers, the gentle stirrings of the breeze around them, the spar of whalebone pressing between her breasts.
    She felt everything .
    He whispered something against her mouth, something Bel could not hear through the roar of blood pounding in her ears—but she felt it, rushing over her lips. His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck, tilting her head to meet his. And now he kissed her again, more firmly this time, his lips slightly parted as they covered hers. Once more, the flavor of brandy flooded her senses, intoxicating and dark.

    She might have pulled away at any moment. But she didn’t. She remained still, so still as his thumb traced a lazy circle over her pulse. She did not move. She dared not breathe.
    But inside, her blood danced. A frenzied, pagan dance that resembled a minuet like a tropical hurricane resembled the London fog. Heat whirled in her center and spiraled out to her limbs, pulsing to a furious beat. The rhythm called to her, pulled her consciousness inward with insistent tugs—until she followed it, sinking deep, deep into the heart of herself.
    Here was passion … desire … wild, untamed emotion.
    Here was the enemy of all her hopes and dreams.
    And yet—he was the one to retreat.
    “Oh.” The syllable escaped her lips the instant his pulled away. He stared down at her, so divinely handsome, clearly anticipating her further response. But what more was there to say?
    She could not reproach him, when any fault was just as much hers as his. A taste lingered on her lips, that warm elixir of brandy and desire. Bel pressed her lips together to savor it a moment longer.
    Soon they would have to go back inside. She would piece together her wits and refresh her composure and find herself a husband. A man who would offer her wealth and influence but hold no influence over her. A man who didn’t stir her blood with a wink or a smile, who would pose no threat to her principles. A man who tasted of custard, not brandy and fire.
    Someone safe.
    When she swept back through those doors, Bel would regain control of her emotions and refocus on her goals. But for these few stolen moments, in the arms of this charming devil…
    all rational thought was lost. Her soul belonged to him.
    She closed her eyes, to remain in the darkness. If only a moment could last forever.
    If only he would kiss her again.
    Well, Toby thought, he wouldn’t be trying that again.
    So much for curing her solemnity with a kiss. She still carried the weight of the world on that lovely brow, while he … he seemed to have contracted a deathly case of serious. The night felt darker now; vast and humbling. He couldn’t have made a joke if he’d tried. And that kiss had left him too breathless to tease.
    He’d kissed her. How had that happened? Hadn’t he just decided not to pursue her?
    No. He’d decided not to ruin her as a means of revenge. And somewhere between that moment and this one, he’d decided to kiss her, simply for her. It had been lovely. Damn near magical.
    He couldn’t regret it.
    Still, he said, “I think we had better go back inside.”
    He slid his hand down the slope of her shoulder for one last caress, and her eyes fluttered