CHAPTER THREE THE FIRST LESSON #4
“You have been kissed before,” he said.
It was not quite a question.
“Once.”
His brows lifted.
“Do not appear so astonished.”
“I am reconsidering the judgement of every unmarried man in London.”
“The experience did not recommend repetition.”
“Who?”
“A young scholar named Mr Aldridge.”
Gabriel’s mouth tightened as though the name offended him personally.
“What did Mr Aldridge do?”
“He kissed me in my father’s library after helping catalogue manuscripts. He became nervous midway through, struck his elbow against a shelf and apologised.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“He later married the daughter of a bishop,” Eleanor added.
“That experience cannot be admitted as evidence.”
“It was a kiss.”
“It was an accident with lips.”
Despite the tension in her body, Eleanor laughed. Gabriel looked at her with an expression she could not immediately identify. The sound seemed to have surprised him.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“That answer is usually dishonest.”
“I had not heard you laugh like that.”
“You have heard me laugh.”
“Not without restraint.”
Eleanor became conscious of her mouth. The awareness felt absurdly intimate. Gabriel moved closer, though several feet remained between them.
“There are different kinds of kisses,” he said.
“How scholarly.”
“A kiss may be performance.”
“Meaning?”
“Something given because others are watching. Convincing, controlled and limited.”
He took another step.
“A kiss may be distraction. It directs attention away from a hand taking a key, a letter or a weapon.”
“Useful.”
“Dangerously so.”
Another step.
“A kiss may test attraction.”
Eleanor’s heartbeat began to quicken.
“How?”
“By asking a question neither person wishes to speak.”
“And the final kind?”
Gabriel stopped before her.
“A kiss that asks for more.”
The fire cracked behind them. Eleanor felt the warmth of it at her back and Gabriel’s heat before her, though they did not touch.
“Which do you intend to teach?” she asked.
“Performance.”
The answer came too quickly. She noticed. Gabriel lifted one hand, then paused before touching her.
“May I?”
Eleanor understood what the question cost him. He had probably kissed women in ballrooms, gardens and bedrooms without ever allowing the moment to become formal enough to expose uncertainty.
“Yes.”
His fingertips settled beneath her jaw. The contact was lighter than she expected. Gabriel’s thumb rested near her chin while his other fingers curved behind her ear, warm against the sensitive skin there. Eleanor’s breath caught.
“Do not lift your face too quickly,” he said. “It suggests eagerness.”
“What if I am eager?”
“Then decide whether you wish him to know.”
“Do you?”
His gaze lowered to her mouth. The hand at her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“This is instruction,” he said.
It was not an answer. Gabriel bent his head.
Eleanor had time to notice the dark edge of his lashes, the clean line of his cheek and the final fraction of distance disappearing between them.
Then his mouth touched hers. The kiss was soft, controlled and brief.
Gabriel’s lips rested against hers for no more than a heartbeat before he withdrew.
Eleanor remained still. Her body did not.
Sensation spread from her mouth through her chest, tightening her breasts beneath the green silk and gathering low in her belly.
The kiss had been almost chaste, yet the knowledge of who gave it and what he could have done changed its meaning entirely.
Gabriel’s hand remained at her jaw.
“Do not chase when he withdraws,” he said.
Eleanor opened her eyes.
“That is arrogant advice.”
“It is practical.”
“You assume I wished to chase.”
“You moved.”
“I breathed.”
“Toward me.”
“Your evidence is weak.”
Gabriel’s gaze sharpened.
“Again,” he said.
This time Eleanor knew the kiss was coming.
Anticipation altered everything. She felt Gabriel’s thumb move beneath her chin, saw his mouth lower and inhaled the faint scent of wine and cedar before his lips met hers.
The second kiss was meant to remain controlled.
It did not. Perhaps Eleanor moved first. Perhaps Gabriel did.
She never knew. His mouth pressed more firmly against hers, and instinct overruled every instruction.
Eleanor’s fingers closed in the front of his coat, holding him when she should have remained still.
Gabriel made a low sound against her lips, surprise or warning, but he did not withdraw.
Instead, his hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck.
The movement changed the kiss. His fingers threaded into the hair at her nape, holding her with a careful strength that sent a shiver down her spine.
His mouth opened over hers, and when his tongue touched the seam of her lips, Eleanor parted them without needing instruction.
Heat swept through her. Gabriel kissed with none of Mr Aldridge’s nervous apology.
He kissed as though he understood every response before she made it, changing pressure when she trembled, slowing when she struggled for breath and deepening the contact when her body moved closer.
Eleanor had thought kissing concerned mouths.
She had been wrong. It concerned the hand at her neck, the hard plane of Gabriel’s chest beneath her palms and the way his body aligned with hers when he drew her nearer.
It concerned the roughness of his breathing and the sudden awareness of her own softness against him.
Her breasts pressed against his coat. The friction sent a sharp pulse of pleasure through her nipples. Eleanor gasped into his mouth.
Gabriel’s arm came around her waist. He drew her fully against him.
The hard length of his arousal pressed through their clothing against her lower belly.
Understanding struck with startling force.
Gabriel wanted her. Not as an experiment.
Not because the lesson required a convincing response.
His body wanted hers with an honesty his smile had concealed.
Eleanor tightened her grip upon his coat and kissed him back with all the curiosity she had spent years denying.
Her tongue touched his, tentative only for a moment.
Gabriel responded with a groan that vibrated through her, and his fingers flexed against her waist. The sound gave her confidence.
She tilted her head, seeking more. Gabriel’s mouth became hungrier.
He kissed her until thought dissolved beneath sensation, until the ballroom, the open door and every carefully negotiated condition retreated beyond the warmth of his body.
His thumb moved along the side of her neck.
His thigh pressed between the folds of her skirt, not high enough to be indecent and close enough to make her body ache for something she did not yet understand. Eleanor moved against him.