Название: A Date with Dishonour
Автор: Mary Brendan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn:
isbn:
Alex took a step back towards her, his narrowed eyes scanning her tense visage. She was courageously trying to hold his gaze, but couldn’t and every move he made was increasing her nervousness. He continued to approach, forcing her to retreat until the backs of her knees bumped into the bench and she abruptly sat down. Immediately Elise shot up again and in doing so skimmed herself against his hard masculine body.
Alex could feel her softly curving hip pressed into his thigh, and her rapid breathing brought her warm firm breasts to chafe his chest.
Spellbound, Elise felt suddenly too weak to move although his hands remained by his side and she could have attempted to push past him.
‘I think that’s not quite fair, my dear...’ Alex murmured.
His husky voice stirred the hair at her brow, making her eyelids feel weighty.
‘How do you know you might not prefer me to this other fellow, once we’ve had an opportunity to become acquainted?’ Alex knew he was behaving idiotically. He should go right now and head straight back to his dratted friend and tell Hugh that his blind date was a...rather wonderful surprise.
Alex had not been expecting to feel the way he did at that moment. When he’d started out earlier he’d been exasperated. Now he was burning with passion of a very different kind. In turn, his lust was being tempered by an inexplicable tenderness. He didn’t know anything about Lady Lonesome, but was beginning to suspect the chit had immersed herself in a drama she now knew to be out of control.
This slender girl with huge doe eyes fascinated him and he wanted to know more about her and why she was lying. She hadn’t suddenly got engaged to anybody, he’d put money on it.
He could tell she was teetering between ducking aside to flee and allowing him to touch her. Much as he was tempted to take advantage of her shy confusion, he knew he couldn’t seduce her. He didn’t consider himself a saint and, without doubt, most red-blooded men would have made her suffer for her recklessness, but he kept his hands clenched at his sides.
Without understanding her reason, Elise swayed closer, tilting up her face as she sensed he would move away. Her breathing slowed and her lashes lowered as she waited without knowing why she did so or what she was expecting from him.
It was too much for him to withstand. With a strangled oath Alex bent his head, sliding his mouth on her closed lips, tasting a honeyed sweetness on her skin that began dissolving his self-control and made him crave more of her. A hand cradled her nape, long fingers spearing into thick silken hair to keep her close as he sensed her flinch in uncertainty as his tongue touched her lower lip. His hand skilfully manoeuvred her chin to part her lips and his mouth moulded on hers with slick speed and increasing pressure.
Elise felt heat flowing through her veins, fizzing beneath her cheeks where their faces touched. She felt dizzy with sensation and her arms, ramrod straight at her sides, jerked up so she might clutch at the stranger’s sleeves as though to keep him close.
It was a tiny encouragement, but all Alex needed as permission to deepen the kiss. The little moan in her throat mingled with his breath and he felt his control slipping. His hands drove beneath her cloak, tracing her silhouette before cupping her breasts. His palms rotated until he felt the warm little nubs hardening and her back bowing towards him. This time when his tongue plunged, hers met it with a tiny tormenting touch before darting away.
Novice doxy maybe, Alex inwardly mocked himself as his urgent fingers worked buttons from hooks to slip inside her bodice and enclose a small silky breast. But she knew exactly what she was doing. She’d aroused him in record time and put a hugely uncomfortable bulge at his groin that normally would have resulted from ten minutes of erotic attention lavished on him by a naked mistress. He sat abruptly on the seat, pulling Elise astride his lap, his hand immediately flowing up towards her thigh, dragging her skirt with it.
It was the brutal treatment Elise needed to shock sense into her.
‘Please don’t...’ she whimpered even as she curved into him, courting more of his relentless touch. Her body felt rocked by a throb that had started in her bruised lips and now had streaked to a place low in her belly.
Alex’s mouth stilled on hers, his hand curved over her thigh, tightening towards the moist core of her and he waited, unable yet to release her.
‘Please let me go...’ Elise whispered, her cheek resting against the side of his head where their light and dark hair mingled.
Alex abruptly stood up with her in his arms and dumped her on the ground before walking away.
Inwardly squirming in shame, Elise watched, thinking he might just go and leave her without a word even after what they’d just done. But he turned, strolled back to stare at her in a way that renewed the heat in her cheeks. He thought her a harlot; worse, he thought her a dishonest harlot—one who would lead a man on, then back out of the deal. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I know what you think me and you’ve every right to suspect me a disreputable character. But I’m not,’ she gasped, unable to quell a note of despair in her voice. She sniffed, cleared her throat. She straightened her clothes with brisk shaking fingers, remembering her sister and the reason for her being with him at all. ‘I must go...’ She approached, hoping he would stand aside and let her pass. Hoping, too, he wouldn’t notice her smearing tears of mortification off her lashes. ‘Please don’t try to stop me; I swear I won’t let you kiss me again,’ she threatened, spearing him a combatant look.
‘I’ve no intention of kissing you again. I’m no masochist.’
Elise blushed at his savage tone despite not wholly understanding what had caused it. She’d angered him, she knew that, and frustration was evident in the thin slant to his mouth...a mouth that moments ago had been welded to hers...
Quickly she dipped her head and hurried past.
‘I have a confession to make,’ Alex said.
Elise pivoted about, glancing up into his narrowed eyes.
‘I’m not actually Mr Best.’ His gaze roved her face, partly shadowed by her bonnet’s brim. He undid the strings and pushed the bonnet back, unsure why he knew she wouldn’t object. He wanted them to see one another clearly before parting.
Her eyes clung to his, a few of her small pearly teeth nipping at her lower lip, as he continued, ‘A friend of mine replied to your advert. He nagged me to come here first in case you weren’t genuinely interested in marriage, but were plotting some deceit.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll recommend he meets you if you want.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Elise gasped, outraged that he might want to pass her on to somebody else. ‘Do you make a habit of stirring trouble for your friends? How do you know I’m not plotting some deceit?’
‘You just said you weren’t disreputable,’ he reminded drily. ‘Were you lying?’
‘Of course not! But you can tell your friend I’d not consider a man too timid to come in person and make up his own mind about me.’
‘He’d have very quickly made his mind up about you,’ Alex said sourly. ‘He’s not lacking courage, just sense. And I dare say he’d have been so smitten he’d have forgotten to enquire about your two-thousand-pound dowry.’
Elise whipped СКАЧАТЬ