As the Devil Dares (Capturing the Carlisles #3)

“They wouldn’t dare,” she whispered. Her breath now came in harsh little pants. Every inch of her throbbed with a mix of frustration and anger. And something else just as intense, just as aching…something triggered by his nearness that set her trembling.

“I’ve seen them ruin ladies for offenses far more slight than what they’ll believe you’re attempting to do to them this season,” he warned, “as an upstart cit invading their ranks, with the audacity to think she can steal away one of their gentlemen.” He leaned in farther until the heat of his breath shivered across her lips. “Those women will shred you, and the men will ruin your reputation without taking a single touch.” His gaze fell to her mouth, the heat of his stare burning her lips. “Although I’m certain the alternative might be damnably fun with a hellcat like you, if a man could survive your claws.”

Her breath hitched with a jerking gasp. That was no mere innuendo, but pure masculine assertion. One that coiled through her, stirring up an inexplicable feminine longing inside her.

“But you won’t let that happen,” she countered in a voice far huskier than she intended, “or your own prospects will be ruined. After all, if you can’t even protect me from—what was it again? Gambling, drinking, or—” She jutted up her chin, too much of a lady to repeat his words. “Something intimate…How would you ever be able to convince my father that you’re capable of protecting all of Winslow Shipping?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do exactly that,” he promised. “And you’ll do what my mother asks of you this season and convey yourself as a proper lady, or losing your allowance will be the least of the punishments from your father.” In that moment’s pause, something haunted and remorseful flickered deep in the sapphire depths of his eyes. Something so pained that her breath caught with surprise. “Because you’ll also lose all his pride in you, and he’ll be disappointed to have you as a daughter.”

Her heart stuttered at the way he said that and at the darkness she glimpsed inside him.

But whatever fleeting sympathy she felt for him wasn’t enough to tamp down her own rising anger. Or the sharp wariness that squeezed her heart at the possibility that this arrogant interloper might be right.

“I’ll do whatever your mother asks of me,” she promised. And with that, laid down a clear line of demarcation between what he wanted from her and what she planned on giving. They’d declared war, and battle lines had to be drawn. “After all, it isn’t her fault that her son is such a beast.”

“That’s right.” Shifting closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat of him along her front, he took her chin and lifted her face toward him. “I am a beast.” His thumb strummed over her bottom lip and made her tremble. “Don’t ever forget that.”

She forced a laugh, suddenly and inexplicably nervous. Instead of the haughty insult she’d intended, it emerged as a throaty rasp. “I’m not afraid of you.”

His eyes gleamed wolfishly and fixed on her lips, staring at her hungrily as if he wanted to devour her. He drawled huskily, “You should be.”

Then he lowered his head and captured her mouth beneath his.

The kiss came so unexpectedly that she didn’t have time to gasp before he stole her breath away and stunned her senseless. For a long while, she could do nothing in her surprise but stand there and absorb the strange and delicious feel of his mouth on hers.

Then all her senses flooded back with the force of a tidal wave. Pushing her hands against his chest, she tried to shove him away, but the man was a mountain, solid and immovable. He didn’t budge as he continued to feast on her lips, kissing her more thoroughly than she’d ever experienced in her life.

And oh, what a kiss! The strength of his mouth contrasted with the softness of his warm lips as they caressed and nibbled against hers, almost cajoling her to give over to him, yet mercilessly relentless in his pursuit to make her senses flee yet again. And drat him, he was succeeding. His nearness intoxicated her until she stopped pushing and instead snaked her arms around his neck to hold him close. He smelled delicious, a masculine mix of leather, soap, and tobacco that made her head spin, and on his lips she tasted the sweet yet earthy flavors of honey and tea. A slow heat seeped into her from the tips of her fingers and toes, until it met in the middle and turned into a throbbing ache.

She shuddered with mortification. She couldn’t possibly find his embrace stirring. Not him of all men! Surely she wasn’t aching from his kisses, didn’t find his nearness intoxicating— A low sound came from the back of her throat in response, half a moan of desire and half a groan of shame.

Then he slowly pulled away. The loss of his heat stunned her, and she was barely able to stifle a whimper of protest on her lips. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and blinking with utter bewilderment.

But at least he had the decency to look just as astonished. If only for a fleeting beat before he collected himself and banished the shocked expression from his face beneath a confident smile.

“Let that be a warning to you,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “about exactly what kind of beast I am.”

Her heart stuttered, a jarring beat that jolted painfully through her. Was that all this was—an object lesson to make her behave? Her bafflement turned instantly to the anger of a pricked pride and her thoughts to retaliation. If he thought she could be managed so easily with only heated kisses and charming smiles, then he certainly had another think coming!

Fighting down her rising blush, she forced a blank expression onto her face and asked with false na?veté, “Let what be a warning?” When his jaw clenched, she let fly her arrow—“You mean that little kiss?”

Ignoring the way his eyes narrowed on her, she laughed lightly with forced embarrassment for him. When what she really felt was an inexplicable yet hungry desire to have his mouth on hers again. But her pride was too wounded to admit it.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize…Perhaps,” she offered with feigned helpfulness, “you should try that again, and this time, I promise, I’ll pretend to be contrite. So go on.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips in flagrant exaggeration. “Go on, then—kiss me.”

When he didn’t move, just as she knew he wouldn’t, she cracked open one eye to peer at him. Oh, the fury on his face! Exactly what he deserved.

“Well, then.” She stepped sideways to free herself from the barricade of his body. “I believe we’re done here.” Perhaps next time he’d think twice before—

He grabbed her shoulders and pressed her back against the wall, his mouth seizing hers.

No, she realized as she melted bonelessly against him, he was not the kind of man to think twice before claiming what he wanted. And what he seemed to want—she trembled—was her.

She once more slipped her arms around his neck, once more leaned up to eagerly meet the delicious onslaught of his mouth against hers. He was a scoundrel, a cad, a rake, but his kisses—oh, sweet heavens, his kisses! They left her breathless and weak, her mind spinning with a swirling rush of emotions and sensations, until all she knew was the persistent warmth of his lips enjoying hers and the electric tingle that sparked from every place their bodies touched.

But this time, he was different. Instead of the raw anger and frustration that had driven him to demand that first embrace from her, this one was softer. As if he were attempting to persuade rather than conquer. To entreat her to melt beneath his embrace. And, God help her, that was exactly what she was doing. She went limp in his arms even as she yearned for more.

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