Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

Julian hated to offend her, but he could see no good way to end this conversation. A blunt exit was his only hope. “I’m sorry, but I have business that requires my attention.” That wasn’t prevarication. He was horribly late to his office, again. “We’ll practice again tomorrow.”


“Wait.”

What could he do? He waited.

“If I really intend to do this,” she said, picking at an invisible bit of fluff on his sleeve, “… attend this assembly, invite the attention of suitors … I need practice with more than just dancing.”

He frowned, waiting for her to explain.

“I’ve lost all talent for flirtation. What little I possessed to begin with. I can’t even remember the last time I was kissed.” She threw him a quick, guilty glance. “Well … er … aside from the other morning, but that hardly counts.”

“Right.” Good Lord, would he never live that down?

Her words tumbled out in a breathy rush. “Anyway, I just thought perhaps, since there was once a time when you actually meant to pursue me … and since you say you’ve always found me attractive … that maybe you wouldn’t mind … kissing me now.”

He could only stare at her. Somewhere in that great chain of words, had she just asked him to kiss her?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being ridiculous.”

He nodded. Yes, ridiculous.

She took a deep breath and began again, looking him full in the eye as she spoke. Her whole demeanor had changed. No girlish nervousness now, just direct communication, woman to man. “Julian, let me be perfectly clear. In an embarrassing, utterly juvenile way, I am offering you the chance to kiss me. Just this once, without promise or penalty attached. Without the influence of sleeping powder.” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “Without interruption.”

She stared at his mouth, awaiting his response. Which made him stare at hers. Her lips were so pink and so plump and so alluring. And trembling, just a little, because despite the forthrightness of her request, she was frightened of what came next.

She was wise to be afraid. She wanted a kiss? He wanted more. So many impulses buffeted him. Not just the tickling breeze of fancies, but full-force, catastrophic monsoons of desire. If she could see the images whipping through his mind, she would turn on her heel and run. In one instant, he wanted to hold her, wrap his body around hers, and protect her from the world. In the next, he wanted to strip her bare and ravish her completely. Possess her, lay waste to her, have her naked and quivering right here on the floor.

Truly, man? On the floor?

Yes, devil take it. He was that depraved. He wanted this elegant, noble lady who was thirteenth in line for the Crown, and he wanted her bared and panting on the waxed parquet. A kiss was what she asked, but for him—a kiss would not be enough.

And now Julian trembled, because he was a little scared, too.

At some point, he’d released her hand. Her touch had slid from his shoulder. They stood facing one another, arms dangling at their sides. They weren’t even touching anymore. It ought to be easy to walk away.

Just like waltzing. Slide one foot back …

“A kiss, Julian. Just this once.” As his hesitation stretched, her brown eyes glimmered with hurt. “Are you truly going to refuse?”

He closed his eyes. Sighed. Opened them again.

And spoke the only word he could.

“No.”

The decision made itself. He lashed one arm around her waist, cinching her close. With his other hand he cradled her neck, tilting her lips to just the perfect angle.

Because this time, damn it—he was going to do this right.

Chapter Nine

Lily knew all about Julian Bellamy. He was a profligate seducer, an infamous rake, a devil-may-care scoundrel.

Who could have guessed the man would be so difficult to kiss?

First that disastrous lip-lock in the early morning yesterday, then their interrupted embrace at Morland House … Lily was hoping the third time would prove the charm. All morning, she’d been waiting for him to make the advance. She’d all but begged him to dance with her. She’d nudged the conversation down suggestive paths.

Finally, she’d decided to take matters into her own hands. And she’d juggled those matters clumsily, nearly dashing them to bits on the floor. But none of it mattered now. Because now his arm was around her, holding her fast, and his strong hand cupped the back of her neck. She’d just read that thrilling “no” on his sensuous lips, and his eyes were full of affirmation. He wanted her, that intense blue gaze said. And this time, he meant to have her.

His lips met hers, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Yes, the third time was a charm.

The third time was pure magic.

He kissed her firmly, then softly. A bit too chastely for her preference. Lily felt herself growing impatient for more. But he refused to hurry, wouldn’t heed the plaintive whimpers tickling the back of her throat.