Page 37 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
“Shhh!” His soft whisper tickled the hair by her ear, more vibration than sound. “Let them pass. Keep looking at me.”
The buttons on the front of his jacket pressed into the bare skin of her décolletage every time she sucked in a rapid breath, and the warmth of him heated her blood. His left leg was pressed between her own, and the intimate sensation, with him almost full-length against her, made her stomach somersault with more than just nerves.
“Pretend to kiss me!” she hissed. “Quickly!”
“With pleasure,” he grinned. “Si, mio caro. Baciami.” He raised his voice and groaned the words, loud enoughfor those approaching to hear. “Voglio scoparti contro questo muro finché non urli il mio nome.”
A cacophony of jeers and ribald comments ensued as the men caught sight of them and unanimously assumed they were interrupting a tryst.
“Looks like the Italians have a new way of waltzing,” one man chuckled. “One that involves tongues!”
“She’s an opera singer, isn’t she?” another guffawed. “Maybe he’s checking her tonsils are in good working order?”
Harry brought his arms up on either side of her head, his elbows resting against the wall to shield her face. His breath tickled her temple and his nose brushed hers as he bent lower.
“Breathe,” he commanded softly.
Ellie’s heart was pounding with a heady mix of fear and desire. Harry’s lips hovered so close to hers that his warm exhales mingled with her own shallow breaths.
There was scarcely an inch between them.
And then there wasn’t any space at all.
She wasn’t sure which one of them moved, but Harry’s lips touched hers, and she almost swooned in delight.
The kiss was tentative, almost a question. He paused, as if to gauge her reaction, and without thought she pushed herself up on tiptoe, closer, silently encouraging him to do it again.
He muttered something under his breath, possibly in Italian, then leaned in and kissed her again, harder this time, tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue.
Ellie opened her mouth instinctively, and when she did, he took full advantage. He slanted his head and his tongue swept inside to tangle with her own, and she gave a soft, incredulous groan at the delicious sensation.
It was possession, pure and simple. A hot, lush exploration, and she closed her eyes, kissing him back, surrendering completely. She’ddreamedof this—who cared whether he was just playing a part?
The world around them dissolved, narrowed to his touch, his lips. As she slid her hands up to squeeze his shoulders, his hand came round to cradle the back of her head, tilting it back, holding her in place as if he never wanted to let her go.
Ellie whimpered. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware of Willingham and the other men passing by, but that knowledge was of little import when Harry’s breath was in her mouth and the taste of him was making her brain swim.
More. Harder. Please.
Time ceased to exist. Every wicked lick, every slow delve of his tongue, caused a corresponding tug in her belly, an ache between her legs. Her blood felt thick, like treacle.
And then it was over. With one last playful tug of her lower lip, Harry raised his head, breaking the contact.
Ellie sucked in a cool lungful of air as he moved back, and the loss of his body as a support almost made her stagger. Heat swept over her skin as embarrassment replaced desire, and the reality of their situation reasserted itself.
Harry cleared his throat and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His eyes appeared almost black, but a dimple creased his left cheek as he sent her a lopsided smile.
“Excellent distraction, Miss Law. First rate.”
Ellie took some comfort from the fact that his voice sounded far more gravelly than usual, and that his chest was rising and falling almost as rapidly as her own. She felt hot, and restless, but managed a brisk, businesslikenod, as if kissing men senseless against walls was all in the line of duty.
She reached up and wiped her finger over the corner of his mouth. His questioning gaze met hers, and she sent him a rueful smile. “You had a smudge of red. From my lip rouge.”
His lips quirked. “Time to go.”
They stepped fully apart. Harry straightened his cuffs and smoothed his still-impeccable coat, and she patted the prayer book in her pocket to make sure it was still there. A servant appeared at the far end of the hallway, and Ellie realized with a start that it was Daisy, carrying two bottles of wine.
Daisy’s delighted expression clearly indicated that she’d witnessed at least some of their interaction, and she sent Ellie a wide-eyed smile.