Page 1 of Almost A Scoundrel

Chapter One

Lady Phaedra Sharpnever thought a kiss could ever rob her of breath. She hadn’t thought about kisses at all until Deerhurst, the mysterious earl-next-door, planted his lips firmly on hers.

At first, she thought her imagination had run wild again, which seemed like the only explanation for why she found herself in the earl’s arms beneath the moonlit sky in the middle of the night. However, there were certain parts of the event that were too vivid for even the most robust of imaginations.

For one, there was the woody flavor of tobacco that clung to the lips kissing her. There was also no denying the velvet stroke of the earl’s tongue that smoothly glided over her bottom lip. Or the hand that pressed against the lower half of her back. So sensuous, it drew a gasp from Phaedra.

His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming entrance. A thousand butterflies flitted down her spine.

Intoxicating.

And scandalous. The stuff of ruin. There were no words to describe the sensations flooding her body. And certainly, no way to mistake the tension that sparked within the space between them. But not the kind where the air turned thick and heavy with pressure. Rather the kind that one never wanted to step away from. It sizzled. Danced from one nerve ending to another and absconded with all her senses.

The man tasted like pure, molten sin.

The promise of broken vows.

Phaedra had always thought a kiss to be just the smack of two lips together. Not this... this... loss of composure!

The arm curled around her waist pulled her up against him. No thought of refusal entered her mind. No thought that this might be a trap and she’d thoroughly been ensnared. On the contrary, not to be outdone, she shoved her fingers through his silky hair.

The sound that rose from the back of his throat startled her.

No. Not his throat.Herthroat.

Feminine.

Sultry.

A sound she did not recognize as her own.

God’s breath.

He kissed her like a man who had found water after years wandering the Sahara Desert. But it was a short track through the wilderness, as Phaedra was jolted out of this entrancing world of two by distant laughter, a sobering reminder of her whereabouts.

What on earth had gotten into her?

Sanity injected into her consciousness, and Phaedra’s mind, which had conveniently blocked out reality, swung open the gates once more.

She wrenched away from Deerhurst, not forgetting to cast a reproachful glance his way. Her heart still pounded, partly because of the kiss but mostly because of what may come next. She had no plans to fall into a matrimonial trap. Ever. Even one of her own accidental making.

“You kissed me...” she accused.

“I did,” Deerhurst drawled with half a scowl, as though he, too, couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. “You kissed me back.”

“I was caught off guard.”

“So was I.”

“How wereyoucaught off guard?”

He shrugged, folding his arms behind his back. A smooth mask fell over his face. “It’s not every night I stumble across a beautiful woman in my garden.”

“I am searching for Puck.”

“Ah yes, the elusive cat that wandered onto my property.”

Did he not believe her?