Page 11 of In the Prince's Bed

She forced herself to sound cool and unaffected. “I prefer ‘Miss Merivale.’ In fact, until we’re formally introduced, you shouldn’t even speak to me.”

He chuckled. “Aren’t you rather strict about the proprieties for an unmarried woman who only moments ago was angling for a kiss in the moonlight?”

She lifted her chin. “Sydney and I are very nearly engaged.”

“And he apparently intends to keep it that way forever.”

Although she’d thought the same thing, she hated hearing it from this eavesdropping wastrel. “You don’t know anything about him. He’s an accomplished poet, well respected for his verse, and a better man than you are, for all your lofty title.”

“No doubt. But he won’t kiss you. And I will.” Catching hold of the gold sash tied around her waist, he tugged her closer.

Her pulse jumped in a frenzied dance. “I don’t want you to kiss me,” she protested feebly.

He cast her a mocking smile. “No? Then why are you still here, instead of racing off inside to join your lackluster suitor?”

No wonder he’d formed the wrong impression. Taking him off guard, she yanked her sash free, then hurried toward the gallery door.

She made it only a few steps before he caught her by the elbow. “Come now, don’t leave yet. There’s no one to see if you break a rule or two.”

A shiver went through her as he skimmed his gloved hand down her bare arm to capture her hand. It had to be fear she felt. So why didn’t she resist when he tugged her back to stand between him and the railing?

Because sometimes she grew tired of being responsible. Ever since Grandfather’s death, she’d been the one overseeing the servants, dealing with merchants, and teaching her siblings.

Still, she mustn’t forget the lesson her parents’ behavior had taught her daily—that recklessness led to ruin. “Sydney says you’re very good at breaking rules.”

“He also says you shouldn’t want to be kissed. But you do.” He braced his hands against the marble on either side of her to trap her between his arms. “So why not take advantage of a man who wants to satisfy your desire?”

How clever of him to make it sound as ifshe’dbe taking advantage ofhim.“I don’t want to impose,” she said sarcastically. “I’m sure you’re much too busy obliging the Lady Jenners of this world to bother with the likes of me.”

“At least I’m not too busy catering to my mother.”

That hurt, especially since it echoed her deepest fears. She swallowed. “Sydney will kiss me when the time is right.”

The earl looked unconvinced. “Let’s say he finally does unbend enough to do it.” His warm breath wafted over her cheeks. “Perhaps on your wedding night, if that ever comes. That doesn’t mean you can’t kiss me tonight…to form a basis for comparison in the future.”

“Why should I want that?”

“So when you’re settled into your very dull marriage with your very dull Sydney, you’ll know exactly what you’re missing.”

She eyed him askance. “And I suppose you can show me what that is.”

“Most assuredly.”

“Tell me, do most women find your arrogance appealing?”

He cast her a rueful grin. “I’ve never tried it on anyone but you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” When his eyes darkened, she added, “I hear you’ve had plenty of experience with women. You don’t need me to add to your store.”

“Ah, but you need me to add to yours. Because if you wait for Sydney, you might wait a lifetime.”

The truth of that statement struck her mute. And it kept her mute when Lord Iversley lowered his head.

To be fair, he gave her plenty of time to protest. His lips lingered a breath away from hers for a long moment. When she did nothing, he took that for consent, which she supposed it was. She was curious, after all.

But the minute their lips met, she knew why curiosity was so dangerous. Because although her mind sputtered its outrage, her body gave in like the shameless wanton Sydney probably thought her to be.

Then the earl fit his mouth snugly over hers, and Sydney became irrelevant.Hehad never smelled of smoke and secrets.Hehad certainly never made her pulse race madly, except in her dreams at night.