Page 12 of A Scandalous Agreement with an Earl
Chapter 12
Edward was beyond irritated. Lord Kinsington had a rather annoying propensity to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, ruining Edward’s carefully laid-out plans. Lord Kinsington’s eyes locked onto Vivianne, and as soon as he did so, he began making his way through the crowd with determined strides.
“We have to move. Now,” Edward said without thinking, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him. They ducked and dodged through the throngs of people, but Lord Kinsington’s relentless pursuit was not far behind.
“Where are we going?” he heard Vivianne ask breathlessly as they kept running.
“Anywhere but here,” he said, having no time for explanations.
His heart pounded as he searched for a place to hide. Spotting a narrow alleyway, he steered them toward it and pulled Vivianne into the shadows. He pressed her against the wall, his body shielding her from view as he kept a watchful eye on the crowd.
The alley was tight, forcing them into close proximity. Edward could feel the warmth of Vivianne’s body against his, her curves fitting perfectly against him. He tried to focus on the street beyond, but his awareness of her presence was overwhelming. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling against his.
He had no idea how long they would be safe there, but he wanted that moment to last forever. He wanted time to stop so he could remain there with her, feeling the warmth of her trembling body against his, driving him mad with desire. Their lips were inches away from each other. He could feel her hot breath spilling onto him, as he inhaled it into himself.
He wanted to kiss her more than ever before, but he remembered his words. He wanted to hear her say those words, to hear her desire voiced through those luscious lips of hers that drove him mad. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke in a low, throaty whisper.
“You have to ask me first,” he said, not even wondering if she would know what he was referring to. He could see the same desire mirrored in her eyes.
However, he also knew that last time, she hadn’t succumbed to it. She’d slapped him. His cheek burned for a second, just to remind him of that ordeal, but it was worth it.
This time, however, her eyes met his, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering on the surface. For a moment, he thought he had overstepped the boundary yet again, that he deserved another slap for being so bold, for pulling her into an alley and now keeping her so close to himself that he could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest.
Then her chin lifted defiantly, her cheeks flushing. He had been waiting for this moment forever, and now that it had finally come, it still caught him off guard.
“Edward,” she said softly, her voice on the verge of breaking, “kiss me…”
His restraint snapped, and he captured her lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce and desperate, their pent-up emotions spilling over in that one moment. He could feel the intensity of her response, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back with equal fervor.
The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, the heat of her body, and the wild beating of his heart. The kiss deepened, a dance of passion that had awakened the slumbering animal of desire in him.
His manhood stood erect in his trousers, responding to her kisses, to her touches. His imagination immediately took a trip downward, wondering what her most intimate flesh would taste like, if it would be as soft, as supple, as delicious as her lips were.
His hunger for her only grew, despite the very obvious fact that they couldn’t have chosen a more wrong place for their kiss. She kissed him forcefully, without any finesse, yet he couldn’t help but want more of that raw passion that only she seemed to be able to give him.
He pulled her even closer onto himself, sucking her lower lip, gently tugging at it only to soothe the sting with more kisses. As if reading his mind, she intertwined her arms around his neck, her fingers raking through his hair, keeping him as close as he was keeping her.
His own fingers found the pins in her hair, which kept her prim and proper—everything she wasn’t at that moment. He wanted to see her fiery hair spill all over her porcelain naked skin. He wanted to inflame her even more than she already was. He wanted to remain in that little bubble of passionate joy for all eternity.
But then he felt her hands on his chest, pushing him away.
***
Vivianne couldn’t believe that she had given in with such ease. Even worse, that she had asked for that kiss herself!
But her body’s reaction, flushed and panting, spoke more than her words ever could. The kiss affected her more than she could have imagined. However, one look in his direction assured her that he was under the same impression. She swallowed heavily, regaining her senses.
“We can’t,” she whispered, afraid that someone might overhear and praying that no one had seen them. “I know this is all just a game to you, but I can’t compromise myself, Edward. I can’t ruin my family’s name.”
She took a step to the side, straightening an invisible wrinkle on her dress—a useless task, but at least it gave her something else to focus on other than what she had just done. However, at that moment, Edward took her completely by surprise.
“Why don’t we really get married then?” he asked in a tone as if he were offering her an umbrella in case it rained.
She resisted the temptation to laugh, because he seemed serious, but at the same time, what he’d said was so preposterous than she could not, for the life of her, take him seriously.
“You can’t possibly mean that,” she said in a dismissive but polite manner, slightly shaking her head at him.
Still, he persisted. “I do.”
She locked eyes with him to assure him that her next words were genuine. “Edward, I don’t want to get married.”
He shrugged, once again as if they were discussing something completely irrelevant and not their own futures, which might actually become intertwined.
“It could be an adventure,” he suggested playfully.
“Everything is an adventure to you, isn’t it, Don Quixote?” she asked, wondering if she could just show him that she knew he didn’t mean it and they could go back to sorting out the issues that actually mattered at that point, which was Lord Kinsington and the broken wheel.
He smiled at her reference. “And here you are, being my windmill again. That would probably make you a good wife. Seriously, why don’t we try it?”
“I do not wish to be anyone’s windmill,” she replied, slightly irritated by his laissez-faire attitude about marriage and life in general. However, she was also shocked to see that he was serious about marrying her.
Just as she was about to repeat what she had already said, she remembered something. He had a title. And she had to get married. Not only that, but she had to marry well, to help her family out of debt.
If she were to consider his proposition seriously, marriage to him would be the perfect opportunity to save her family and perhaps have the sort of marriage where she would be able to enjoy books on her own without her husband bothering her. But what would he do?
She remembered his reputation. He was a rake, after all. And he would probably continue to be one, even after marriage. She didn’t love him, of course.
Such a thing was preposterous in itself to even consider, but she refused to be disrespected in such a manner as to have a husband who would be unfaithful to her. No. It was easier to simply not marry at all. But if she was so certain about that, why did she blush at being kissed by the man who just offered to marry her?
“Let’s say, in a very insane and impossible scenario, that we actually do get married. What if you fall in love with someone else?” she asked, regretting her words immediately, because she could feel a slight queasiness that had to have been provoked by the words themselves.
At first, he seemed as if he didn’t hear her properly, his eyes traversing every inch of her face, her eyes, her nose, her lips. Then he laughed once he realized that it was a serious question.
“I could ask you the same question,” he responded somehow indifferently, once the onslaught of laughter had died down.
“No, I could not,” she corrected him, without any doubt in her voice. “I will never love anyone.”
“Hm,” he said, tilting his head a little as if to take a better look at her. “I had no idea it works that way.”
“Why wouldn’t it?” she asked simply.
“Jonathon would beg to differ,” he reminded her. She knew Aurelia would also beg to differ, but she kept that fact to herself, wishing to end that argument.
“Then it depends on the person, not the actual feeling,” she stated.
“I see.” He nodded, obviously intrigued. However, she had no intention of explaining herself to him. Fortunately, he sensed that, so he continued in the direction of the conversation that led them there in the first place. “Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”
“I suppose so,” she replied, slightly perplexed by the point he was trying to make.
He laughed at her hesitation. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he told her. “Friendship is a solid foundation for a marriage. In fact, it is more solid than love, which is fleeting and yields to circumstances. Friendship does not.”
“All right,” she said, deciding to agree up to a certain point. “But that doesn’t mean that we should marry all of our friends.”
“Heavens no.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Only the ones you are physically attracted to… as we are, obviously.”
She blushed immediately upon his words, but instead of continuing to make fun of her, he offered her his arm.
“We still need to go fetch help for the broken wheel,” he said, reminding her of the predicament that had gotten them there. “Just think about my proposition, all right?”
She couldn’t resist smiling. “You make a lot of those, do you know that?”
“It’s part of my charm, my dear,” he said, patting her hand affectionately as they slipped out of the alley unnoticed.
They headed down the street, and Vivianne searched the faces around her for Lord Kinsington. Fortunately, she did not find him. However, she did find a face she never thought she would see again—a face that made her body shiver and her palms clammy.
She swallowed heavily, saying a name that lingered on her lips like venom. “Reginald.”