Page 56 of Almost A Scoundrel

She smiled at him. Not her usual smile. This one was provocative. Coy. Filled with a promise that made Deerhurst’s lungs contract in a painful yet expectant manner.

Her words gave life to that promise when she said, “Then I could kiss you and no one would bat an eye?”

Deerhurst’s mouth went dry, any reply smothered by the burn of desire that bolted straight to his groin. He’d never come so close to dragging a woman off to some darkened corner and shoving himself inside of her.

If he said yes—that no one would bat an eye—was he giving permission? Aiding in ruinous behavior? If he said no... could he even say no?

In the end, he went with the theme of the night and said, “No one would bat an eye.”

“No one would care?”

“Not one person.”

He should have expected what happened next.

He should have anticipated how she would lift onto her toes, grab hold of his upper arms, and plant her lips on his, and kiss him.

But he hadn’t.

Astonishment made its way to his gut, which in itself was rather astonishing since he had practically told her she could do so.

The moment her mouth connected with his, the same pull that had urged him to kiss her in his garden returned with a force stronger than the impact of a ton of bricks. This was what he wanted. This was what he had craved every moment of every day since he met her. She was magic. Pure magic. His hands lowered to cup the soft flesh of her derrière and squeezed.

Her lips parted with a gasp, and he did not hesitate to take control and thrust his tongue into her mouth. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. She had opened this floodgate. Christ knew whether he’d be able to close them tonight.

He wanted to devour her.

All of her.

The instinct was unprecedented. And yet he could no more fight it than he could fight off an army. Indeed, it might be safer to fight off an army than share one kiss with her.

He pulled her close, his fingers digging into her soft, pliant flesh. She tasted sweet and inviting, like a substance a man could never get enough of—like a drug. Deerhurst suddenly understood why opium users ruined their lives chasing that smoke.

She was his opium.

Their kiss was interrupted by a group of rumbustious men entering the room at that moment. Deerhurst pulled away and cursed under his breath.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut our attendance short, love,” he said as he tracked the group’s progress across the room.

“Why?” She followed his gaze. “Because of those men? Who are they?”

“Troublemakers.”

“Not the playful kind, I take it?”

Deerhurst’s eyes never left the newcomers. “Let’s just say their arrival never bodes well for gatherings such as these.”

And on the heels of that sentence, everything went to hell.

Chapter Eleven

Phaedra should haveknown, with the luck she’d been having of late, the masked ball would somewhere take a turn—and this time not for the better. Deerhurst’s rules and been simple enough. Stay at his side. Do not dance with anyone but him. Accept nothing from anyone.Smileat nobody but him.

In the end, she broke every last rule.

The night might have been salvaged if the exuberant new arrivals had headed for one of the other rooms, but no, they turned their sights to the dance floor. Up until the moment they had entered, Phaedra had believed them to be a small but loud party, but as they stumbled and cheered through the throngs of dancers, it became clear that Deerhurst hadn’t exaggerated. A mob of rabble-rousers had arrived.

It all happened so fast.