The Trouble With Honor (The Cabot Sisters #1)

“I intend to kiss her,” he said. How could he even contemplate kissing Monica Hargrove? The thought made him shudder. The only one he could think of kissing was Honor. “I will seduce her.”


“No!” Honor cried. “No, you mustn’t!” She suddenly took his face between her hands. “You can’t kiss her,” she implored him. “You can’t kiss her, because I will perish with jealousy.”

George lifted his arms, his palms out and away from Honor, fearful of what he would do if he touched her again. “Then tell me, Honor, instruct me. Tell me what to do to help you.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said softly, knocking him off center once more.

“Pardon? We were speaking of Miss Hargrove—”

She shook her head. “Why did you tell me not to speak?”

He blinked; it took him a moment to recall what he’d said. She was watching him closely, and he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Honor, darling...I told you not to speak because I couldn’t bear to hear it.”

Her eyes suddenly began to water, and she dropped her hands. “Because you cannot return my affection,” she said.

He didn’t mean to chuckle, but he couldn’t help it. Honor blinked; she began to turn away, but he caught her hand. “Because I can only return it tenfold,” he said. “I couldn’t bear to hear it because I can’t have you.”

Her eyelids fluttered; she eyed him warily, as if she expected him to declare he was jesting after all. When he did not, she turned to him and said, “Do you want to know how you can help me? You can show me your deepest affection before I am forced to marry the vicar. Before the ache of missing you turns my heart to dust.”

Those words were a salve to old, ancient wounds, and he scarcely knew what to do with them, which way to turn. “I can’t do that, Honor. You know as well as I that it’s impossible for us.”

“Impossible?” She laughed. “I don’t know which way is up or down anymore. I only know what I feel in this moment, Easton, and I have missed you.”

“Honor, please,” he said, begging her now. “I cannot resist you.”

She curled her fingers around his, squeezing them tightly. “Then don’t.”

He reached for her at the same moment she reached for him, slipping into his arms as if she belonged there, had been there all his life. George’s heart began to reel. Her lips felt like silk beneath his, tantalizing the beast in him. He crushed her to him, felt her breasts against his chest, the heat of her body mingling with his, flaring in his groin.

He lifted his head, gazing down on the woman who had the power to do this to him. She opened her eyes and smiled so seductively that it was a wonder George didn’t fall to his knees. He was on fire, fully engulfed by a woman whose smile could reduce him to ashes. She touched her finger to his lip and whispered, “Did you miss me?”

“More than the air I breathe,” he growled, and lust for her flooded into every part of him, hardening his cock to the point of aching. Her hands moved over his body; he grabbed her bottom, kneading it, pushing it against his erection, showing her just how badly he wanted her. She began to move against him, pressing into him, nipping at his lips, sliding her tongue into his mouth. She was a hellion, so brazen in her desire that he was melting with it.

He put her on the settee and moved over her, trapping her beneath his body. Hungry for the taste of her skin, he moved his mouth to her throat, down to her breast, nipping at the hardened nipple through the fabric of her gown. Honor whimpered softly, shoved her fingers into his hair as she instinctually lifted her breast to his mouth. He pulled at her gown, freeing both breasts, uncaring that he was devouring her, uncaring of anything but the dangerously desperate need to touch her, to be in her once more.

He suddenly sat up, clawing at his clothes, his gaze locked on Honor. When he had thrown off the coat and waistcoat, had removed his neckcloth and shirt, he slipped his hand under her back, lifting her up, kissing her deeply with all the emotion that was surging through him, and lowering her down once more as he found the hem of her gown. The need to feel her body surround his was overpowering; when she kissed his nipple, he caught her hands again, pinned them above her head. “Be still.”

Honor laughed breathlessly. “Why?”

“Because you drive me to madness.”