CHAPTER 3 #2
“For you, something earthy yet spirited, with a subtle hint of elegance and warmth. Bergamot. Combined with… pine?—no, crisp green cedar. Yes, fresh and lively, like a burst of laughter. But then it gives way to a deeper, warmer heart of spiced cardamom and wild sage. For the final notes, I would ground the base with sandalwood and a touch of leather.”
“You seem to know me very well.”
Her gaze had taken the faraway look it often did when she was dreaming of a fragrance, but his words brought her attention back to his face.
And the expression in his eyes left no doubt as to his intentions.
No more laughter. His eyes were devouring her.
She had never experienced it in her life, but she knew this was desire. And something more.
She laughed softly, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “It is a passion of mine.”
“Passion. Such a great quality.”
The conversation had shifted, the words now laced with hidden meaning. She said nothing, acknowledging what was being said and also left unspoken. The flirtation veiled beneath the risqué words.
Did he know he was talking to his betrothed? Was he the kind of man who flirted—or more—with an unknown lady in a garden while betrothed to another? Maybe she shouldn’t be here, alone, with him.
His hand came up slowly. Showing his intention, giving her time to reject his advance if she so wished.
But she didn’t wish to stop him. If anything, she craved his touch, his kiss, with frightening intensity.
As if she might perish if he didn’t kiss her this time.
She wasn’t sure who moved first. Maybe they both moved at the same time, and then their lips were fusing, sliding, softly clinging to each other.
She had been kissed before, one or two times, by earnest admirers in shadowy balconies. But nothing had prepared her for this kiss. It hit her differently. It awakened her entire body, curling her toes, making heat rise from her core, hitching her breath. She wanted more.
His hand cradled her cheek and he changed the angle of their kiss, his mouth slanting over hers, demanding entrance.
Her lips parted of their own accord, as if they knew something she didn’t, and his tongue swept into her mouth, tangling and sliding sensually against hers.
Igniting a need she had never known before.
Soon she was on his lap with no memory of how she got there but happy to find herself in that position.
One of her hands grasped at his lapel while the other sifted through his hair, fisting his smooth locks, striving to find purchase in a world that had tilted.
And still the kiss went on. The soft sounds of their mouths mingling with the cacophony of birds finding a place to perch for the impending night.
She twisted on his lap, trying to get closer, and he groaned as if in agony. The next moment, the kiss gentled and then ended slowly. She almost embarrassed herself by whimpering a protest when his lips left hers, mollified only by the caress of his hands on her cheeks.
“Sweet. So sweet,” he murmured, as if stunned. Maybe he found himself as surprised as she was.
He leaned his forehead against hers and ran his thumb over her lips which had been sensitized with his kisses. She would have leaned in for another, but he stopped her.
“Wait. We need to talk. May I speak with your father?”
“What?”
“To ask him for permission to court you,” he clarified.
The words, so unexpected, had the power to make her senses snap to attention. He wanted to speak to her father? Oh, that’s right, because he didn’t know she was already his fiancée.
She frowned. He didn’t know she was his fiancée, and yet he had kissed her.
Expressed intention to court her. Did that mean that this engagement meant so little to him?
That he was willing to throw her over for a mysterious lady he found in the garden?
How was it possible to be hurt and flattered at the same time?
A nervous chuckle burst out at the absurdity of her feelings.
Maybe she shouldn’t have hidden her identity.
He might be furious when he found out. Or not.
He was the kind who could appreciate a joke.
One of his haughty brows rose at her chuckle, reminding her that, while good natured, he was not someone to trifle with and she had not answered his request.
“There’s no need to do that,” she replied.
That was the wrong thing to say, obviously, and earned her a frown.
“Oh? You refuse my courtship after kissing me senseless?”
“No. That’s not what I meant. You’ll see. All will be made clear when we are introduced later tonight.”
She scrambled to get off his lap, and he helped her stand, but then held on to her hand.
“Are you not free?”
All traces of the playful lover had vanished, and she got a glimpse of the steel underneath his charm. His eyes flashed with green fire.
“I am.”
Relief washed through his features. “Then when will I see you again? Who is your family? I must know, my Titania. The time for games is past. Tell me your real name.”
“You will see me again soon enough,” she said, evading him and skipping toward one of the maze tunnels. “At dinner tonight. And then my identity will be revealed and you’ll see why there’s no need to talk to my father.”