One Scandalous Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

her mouth to his.
    “I’m sorry.” She whispered the words so quietly Jess wasn’t certain if she spoke to herself or to the man seated across from her.
    He didn’t respond, just continued to stare at her, and she looked away, nervousness making her pulse race. When she lifted her eyes again, she caught him studying her oft-mended skirt hem, her ink-stained fingers, shamelessly bare of gloves, and then slowly perusing the buttons of her shirtwaist before assessing her face. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her.
    Then the marble shifted. Lord Grimsby pursed his lips, grimacing, and she wasn’t certain if he found her distasteful or was considering precisely how to devour her. He spoke low, one syllable slipping from his lips.
    “Why?”

 
    Chapter Three
    I N THE S ILENCE between his question and her answer, Lucius acknowledged to himself that the woman seated across from him was lovely. The observation had nothing to do with attraction. It was a cold, hard fact, one even the most cursory observer would be foolish to deny. There was no romanticism in the deduction. It was simply true. It was just as true she wore unfashionable clothes, kept too long and mended too often. It was equally undeniable that the striking shade of her hair held appeal, though she wore it in the most unflattering arrangement he’d ever seen. Only the stray curls escaping from pins here and there, despite evidence of her efforts to force them back into place, hinted at the lush beauty she hid with her scraped-back style.
    Yes, most decidedly lovely. The cool air had put a rosy glow in her cheeks and reddened her mouth. With a jolt of shock, he realized he knew those lips—the pointed bow of her upper lip, the plump pillow of her lower—and could still recall the cushion of their fullness. He twisted his own mouth in derision. The lips might be familiar, but he knew nothing of the woman. From her behavior, he could only surmise her poor judgment and moral laxity.
    He looked away, turning from the sight of her, tamping down the memory of their kiss. It was too ridiculous to contemplate. But the glass of the carriage window conspired with the night sky to offer him a mirror. Turning away from her, he found only her reflection as she huddled in the corner of the carriage, chafing her hands and avoiding his eyes.
    He lifted the carriage blanket from the space next to him and thrust it toward her. “Here. Warm yourself.”
    As she accepted his offering, he licked his lips and then cursed under his breath at the taste of her lingering there.
    Damnation. He would not savor the taste of a reckless bluestocking. When he wished to sate his baser needs, he accomplished it as every unmarried gentleman did—with discretion. Mistresses weren’t hard to come by, though lately the very notion of a paramour seemed more bother than indulgence. And now, with Aunt Augusta on the hunt for a suitable bride, a mistress was a complication he did not need.
    The scent of starch and violet water tickled his nose and he wanted rid of the woman. Her silence irritated him. Why act as if she feared him? The brazen creature had just stomped up to him in public and put her mouth on his.
    What on earth could possess a woman to commit such a scandalous act? Infatuation wasn’t even a consideration. He would remember if they’d ever met before. No one could forget the unique shade of her hair. Surely she didn’t hope to initiate an acquaintance in such an outrageous manner. Never mind that her unexpected kiss had jolted through him like an electric current, that he’d stood staring at her like a fool, unwilling to release her arm and break the connection between them.
    He’d never see her again after this night and it irked him. And the fact that it irked him stoked his irritation.
    “Will you offer no answer, madam?”
    She jumped at the sound of his voice, the small confines of the carriage making it louder than he’d intended.
    Softening his tone, he tried again.