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Chapter Thirteen

H e hadn’t meant to kiss her, but sometime between the start of their chess game and the mid-way point of their conversation, the need to taste her lips became an all-consuming craving, until he burned with it.

Her lips were sweet, and damned delectable, and his insides clamored for more . But he held back, waiting for a sign.

Seconds passed during which she held herself statue-still. He half-feared, half-hoped she would push him away.

Then those plump lips softened beneath his and her body, wraithlike, swayed toward him. Something hot and primal flared to life inside him.

He cupped the crown of her head with one hand, anchoring her in place, while his other hand skimmed her lower back, drawing her closer.

Her body, pliant and lithe, contoured to fit every hard angle of his. He grasped a handful of the long hair hanging down her back and the scent of her floated up at him like lavender vapor.

He wanted her. Wanted to explore every inch of her creamy skin, inhale the sweet feminine elixir of her that had him so drugged he couldn’t think.

A soft moan escaped her, and the proof of her desire for him was like fuel on an already blazing inferno.

“Kitty, touch me,” he said against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, as an instinct he could not fight took control of his will.

Her hands fluttered in the air before landing, feather light, on the pockets of his waistcoat. Too much damned material. He wanted her flesh on his.

He held his breath as her fingers crept upwards to clutch his shoulders. Then she was cradling his nape, her cool fingers toying with the hair at his collar.

Lust unfurled low in his belly. More his body screamed.

He slanted his lips over hers as hunger tore at his insides.

His tongue flicked at the corners of her mouth, seducing her lips apart little by little until, finally, he slipped inside.

Sweet Jesus , she tasted like heaven. Better even than his memory of her, plaguing him day and night.

She mewed and pulled closer. The teasing weight of her hips through the layers of fabric barraged his self-control, urging him to carry her to the hearth, lay her down, and pull up her skirts. It would be so easy. So sweet.

He must be out of his ever-loving mind.

Calling on a will he no longer knew if he possessed, he forced his mouth from hers. He pressed his forehead against hers to stare down at her.

Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. Her breaths, coming in short little pants, whispered against his jaw.

Her lashes fluttered open, and their gazes locked. For a moment he lost himself in those pale green eyes, shining with desire and wonder.

Like a girl who’d never been kissed.

Guilt smote him, hot and swift.

His hands dropped, and he took a faltering step back.

A scuffing noise sounded in the open doorway, and he glanced up in time to see James skulking past the threshold. Perfect.

Kitty didn’t appear to have noticed him. “Zeke? Why did you”—she swallowed—“do that?”

Because I’m an idiot who couldn’t leave well enough alone. He attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. God, he hated himself in that moment.

“Why did I kiss you? Have you never surrendered a harmless kiss as penalty for losing a parlor game?” In self-defense, or maybe self-recrimination, he wielded his supercilious tone like a knife, knowing it would put her off him for good.

Hurt flashed in her eyes.

“Plus, we had an audience to impress.”

Her eyes widened in horror before her gaze shot to the doorway. She took a step back, wobbling a bit when her legs collided with her chair. “Who?” she choked.

“Who else? Who better?”

She covered her lips with shaking fingers.

“Dear cousin James. His seeing us in a passionate embrace can only aid your cause.”

Icy green fire lit her eyes. “I suppose I should thank you, then?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You are intolerable,” she hissed.

He chuckled, even as his gut clenched with an aching need to pull Kitty into his arms and kiss away her ire.

Without another word, she fisted up her skirts and flounced from the room.

He stared for a moment at the empty doorway, then a humorless smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Good for her. Come to think of it, good for him.

Now maybe she’d keep her guard up around him.

Maybe she’d resist looking at him with those guileless eyes, stop plaguing him with that honeyed voice.

Maybe she’d lose all her softness and sweetness and ability to wriggle her way under his skin like he hadn’t allowed any woman to do, ever.

Hell. He wasn’t being fair and he knew it.

He strode toward the wall cabinet and unearthed the earl’s brandy decanter. He poured himself a healthy portion— then added another splash for good measure

She hadn’t broached the subject of her family, hadn’t intended for her words to reach inside him and wreak havoc on his emotions. What was it about her? Why did she test his self-control?

He downed a large swallow of the expensive brandy like it was swill. He was a player in this charade as a favor to the earl, damn it. Seducing Kitty was not part of the deal. He would not touch her again, whatever the cost.

***

Kitty entered the breakfast room and scanned the faces of those present. Lady Lillian, the earl, Garrick. No sign of Zeke. Again.

For the past two days he’d made himself scarce with the sole exception of appearing for the evening meal, and that was for Garrick’s benefit no doubt. They mustn’t appear disinterested in each other. Oh, no, not that.

His frequent absences were for the best. She lost her mind around him, went all weak-kneed, and according to the man himself, stared.

“Good morning, everyone.”

A round of good mornings followed as she marched to the sideboard to fill her plate. Even Garrick issued a polite greeting.

Surprising. Contrary to the plan, the marriage contract between she and Zeke hadn’t improved Garrick’s attitude at all. If anything, he seemed more hostile. More dangerous. Not that he’d said or done anything specific.

It was there in his eyes. A silent threat directed at her when no one else was watching. The cold, stillness in his dark gaze reminded her of a snake, lying in wait in the grass. He wanted her to know he hadn’t given up. Was, in fact, only biding his time.

So long as she never allowed him to catch her alone, she’d weather this storm. Five months to go now. Less. She could outlast him. She chose a seat near the earl, who had his nose deep in a copy of the Times .

“Anything interesting, my lord?”

“Just the usual dismal news from town.”

Lillian spoke up from across the table. “Speaking of town, do you know Lady Torrington has eschewed her London home in favor of the country? She’s asked me to tea this afternoon.” Lillian’s eyes glowed with undisguised pleasure. “I expect she’s anxious to hear all the juicy details.”

“Details?” Kitty asked.

“About the wedding. She’s well aware Claybourne and I have waited a long time to see Zeke married.”

“Indeed we have,” the earl said, not looking up from his paper.

Kitty’s cheeks radiated with instant heat. Lillian and the earl made a habit of speaking as if this betrothal were legitimate. She supposed they wanted to put on a good show for Garrick, but it made her more than a little uncomfortable.

Lillian dabbed her lips with her serviette. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some correspondence to see to before leaving.”

Garrick spoke up after Lillian left. “Kitty, I’m thinking of going to the Derby market this morning. When I went in to town last week to post my correspondence, I noticed the vendors had an assortment of eye-catching baubles, perfumes, hair ribbons, and such.”

“Nice little village, isn’t it?” the earl asked, off hand. “Been meaning to mention you have no need to venture into town to post your items, James. You can leave all correspondence with Giles in the front hall. He’ll see everything gets taken care of.”

Garrick smiled cooly. “As your butler informed me. However, documents related to important affairs in Maidstone I prefer to see to personally.”

The earl’s brows rose a fraction. “Good to know you take your responsibilities to your estate so seriously.”

“Indeed I do, my lord.” Garrick switched his attention back to Kitty.

“As I was saying. Kitty, we’ve hardly had a chance to catch up since arriving to Chissington Hall.

Go into town with me for lunch, and I’ll purchase you whatever little trinket you desire.

” A wry smile curved his lips. “Call it a wedding gift. Lord knows I can afford it.”

Did he really think she’d go anywhere with him, willingly? Still, she found his improved attitude encouraging. “Thank you, cousin, but I already have plans for this morning.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “And this afternoon.”

Garrick’s eyes tightened at the corners. “Another time, perhaps.” He shoved back from the table and vacated the breakfast hall. “I’m off. Enjoy your day, Lord Claybourne, Kitty.”

The earl re-folded his newspaper and turned an affectionate smile on Kitty. “May I inquire as to your pressing plans? Anything to do with Zeke?”

“No, my lord. I plan to scour the library for a map of this weaving estate walk you mentioned.”

“Robert Adam’s famous rabbit trail? I wish I could join you. It’s been a long while since I ventured that path. Alas, I fear my knees are acting up. I could ask Zeke—”

She held up a hand, palm out. “Thank you, my lord, but no. If you haven’t noticed, Zeke has no desire to be in my company.” Heat snaked up her neck. She didn’t want the earl to think she minded Zeke’s paucity of attention.

“My dear girl, Ezekiel is still adjusting to”—He paused as if searching for the right words—“to being back in England. Soon enough he’ll settle in. You’ll see. Everything will work out.”

***

Kitty lifted her face to spy the shafts of sunlight stealing through the canopy of trees.

What a glorious day. She grinned, silently thanking her cousin for making her solo jaunt possible.

Had he not taken himself off to the village, she’d have been forced to drag a servant along. No one else was available.

An image of Zeke flashed in her mind, and she shook her head. No. She wouldn’t waste a moment of time thinking about him.

She resumed her walk. Thus far, the graveled path had woven through a myriad of flower gardens, to a pond with a burbling fountain in its center.

She crossed the pond on a wooden footbridge and stopped. The river lie ahead, in sight, with its man-made waterfall, and marked the halfway point.

Which meant, if she read the map correctly, she would find a footpath stemming off the main thoroughfare just ahead.

She spotted it, congratulating herself on her fine map reading skills. She followed the worn ground through a patch of forest, and emerged into a grassy clearing.

She found herself facing what looked to be a solid wall spanning the perimeter of the property.

She approached the fence and felt along the vine covered stone wall until she located the hidden gate. Holding her breath, she pushed. The gate opened.

Laughing with delight, she ducked inside. A real secret garden, equipped with stone bench, birdbath, fountain and all.

She settled on the slatted bench centered in the garden. Above, an open lattice-dome roof topped the enclosed space. No direct sunlight shone through the vines, leaving the secluded grounds shaded in green-tinged mystery.

Flowers—Jasmine, peony, roses, clematis—abounded. Their blossoms and the plethora of herbs she spotted, rosemary, thyme, lavender, and mint, and other flora she couldn’t name, sweetened the air.

Singing birds and the faint tinkling of water filled her with a sense of peace and wonder. No doubt about it, the place had been designed for dreamers—and lovers.

Zeke’s father probably brought Zeke’s mother here for stolen kisses, once upon a time. And Zeke? Had he ever brought a girl here?

A fierce longing squeezed her already bruised heart. She’d banned him from her thoughts ever since the kiss in the parlor, and his subsequent total rejection of her.

But now, just for a moment, she indulged her fantasies, closing her eyes and allowing herself to picture Zeke passing through the open entrance.

He would approach her unhurriedly, a lazy smile curving his lips. His eyes heavy-lidded would fix on her mouth. He would—

The sound of leaves crunching underfoot brought her fantasy to a crashing halt. Someone walked the footpath. She stared at the opening, a sick foreboding causing the hair on her nape to prickle.

“Ah. Here you are, dear cousin.” Garrick ducked into view.