The Love Match (Entangled Scandalous) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and felt another sweet shock when their breaths mingled.
    The grip on her arms tightened. She leaned forward. Now she could feel the heat of his thighs against her ribcage, just under her unbound breasts.
    His tongue breached her lips, touched her own, but before she could get used to it, was gone.
    She wanted to feel it again.
    One hand moved up her arm, following her shoulder and the curve of her neck and then settling on her jaw, strong and warm. He held her firmly and deepened the kiss.
    Her own hands slipped up his legs. She didn’t mean to do it, but they itched to touch every part of him. As they traveled the length of his thighs, his tongue danced with hers again, and she leaned into him, intrigued by the moist heat.
    Her hand brushed the firm ridge hidden under his trousers. They both froze.
    Then he gently set her away from him, and her face flooded with embarrassed heat.
    “It was an accident,” she began.
    “You don’t need to apologize. I would ask you to do it again, but that would take things further than they should go.” His lips were dark from their kisses. And she was looking right at them, so she didn’t miss their sudden curve. “You have ink on your cheek,” he noted softly.
    She glanced at his dirty hands. “That’s your fault. I hope it washes off.”
    “It should.” He stared at her as though trying to puzzle her out. “When I was first introduced to you last Season, I thought you were the picture of the wilting wallflower. But you’re not, are you?”
    “I thought I was,” she said, nearly as puzzled as he was.
    “But not with me?”
    “Not with you,” she agreed.
    “Probably because I’m so unimpressive.”
    “Most likely,” she said.
    And after a heartbeat, they smiled at the same time. And Olivia had the ridiculous thought that she could stay there the whole night, kneeling by his feet and simply talking to him, letting his voice drift over and through her. Although, she wouldn’t be opposed to kissing, either.
    But she didn’t know if she would want to stop at just kissing.
    “I think I should leave,” she said.
    “Yes,” he agreed.
    She stood up shakily, and he stood with her. He spoke again. “You never answered my question about the authors.”
    “Oh!” she chewed her bottom lip while she thought. “Everything by Fanny Burney to start out with. Now I may ask you a question?”
    He nodded.
    There were too many possibilities. She didn’t know where to start. So she asked one of the first that came to mind, one she truly wanted to know, which would also be easy for him to answer. “What is your favorite color?”
    “Gray, I think,” he said, automatically, and then his forehead wrinkled as though he was displeased, or surprised, by his own answer.
    “Gray,” she repeated softly, a strange warmth flooding her chest. “Not silver?”
    He stared at her, unfathomable in the shifting half-light. Eventually, he said, “Not silver. Gray is a nice color on its own. Better than silver, in some ways.”
    When he fell silent, she nodded, turned, and forced herself to move to the door before she found herself sitting down and staying there for hours. But she didn’t know if she would sleep. The imprint of his mouth still burned her lips, and likely would for a long time.
    …
    William stayed in the library after Olivia left, staring blankly at the parchment in front of him. The words he’d written blurred before his eyes. All he could remember was that kiss. That tentative, arousing, fumbling, consuming kiss.
    A rash thing to do, obviously. He wasn’t in the business of ruining virgins. But she’d looked soft in the candlelight with her hair tied in a loose braid. Inviting. Her eyes actually had appeared more silver than gray in that instant.
    He smiled sardonically and wondered what she would think of that. She would probably laugh at him again.
    He wasn’t used to being laughed at, but he didn’t think he minded when it was Olivia Middleton. There was nothing