Chapter Six #2
“Nor would it be a problem if I tipped my head the other way,” he said in a husky rumble that shot tingles through her.
She angled her head slightly to test his theory. Then she closed her eyes…to more clearly calculate the probability of her nose hitting his eye, of course.
Her lips accidentally grazed his.
She did not know exactly how it happened—perhaps she had inched forward and he must have done the same. Or maybe it was just her, because she was impossibly curious.
All she knew was that their lips were suddenly locked together and the butterflies in her stomach were in a wild, raging frenzy.
Milbury placed a hand lightly to the back of her head to hold her steady as their mouths combined. Fused. Pressed together as though they were desperate for each other.
No, it wasn’t meant to be that sort of lungs-bursting, hearts-aflame kiss.
He was merely proving a point. Nothing more. And why should she not allow him to prove it?
Dear heaven.
His lips were warm. Gentle and yet possessive. His polished veneer was gone, leaving the primal male who sought to claim her with his raw heat.
Well, no. Again, no.
He wasn’t claiming her at all, just showing her that her nose would not get in the way of his kiss, no matter which direction their heads were angled.
Either way felt awfully good…if one enjoyed scorching kisses.
Her insides were in flames. She had never experienced anything like this before.
He slowly drew away.
“There,” he said without the slightest hint he had been affected, no sign of a rasp to his voice or any unsteadiness whatsoever. “This proves my assertion, does it not?”
She couldn’t breathe. The butterflies in her stomach were in a mad frenzy, furiously flapping their wings in an attempt to extinguish the flames.
“Assertion?” she repeated numbly.
He nodded. “Your nose would not get in the way of our kisses. But Lady Number 7’s nose would.”
She remained unable to speak for another long moment because she wasn’t certain what had just happened. Nor could she think while he was staring at her with crystal-sharp eyes. Was she imagining there was more to this moment than a simple test?
“But this leaves no one else,” she finally managed to blurt.
“I have an idea about that.”
She shook her head, needing to compose herself after that unexpected…completely wonderful, and also impossible kiss. “What is your idea? It had better be brilliant, because we now have no prospects to invite to your summer house party. Zero. Nil. Not a one.”
“No Londoners,” he clarified. “Come to Milbury Hill with me and the boys. There must be at least four spinster prospects in Brighton we can invite. Fiona will know them all because she knows everyone within a thirty-mile radius of Brighton.”
“And if she does not?”
“She’s resourceful. She will. But if she doesn’t, then you can leave whenever you wish.
I am not going to hold you captive. But I hope you will stay on and enjoy all that my estate has to offer.
The sea and sunshine. The fresh breezes.
Waking to birdsong every morning. Picnics on the beach.
Fiona is a short walk away at Shoreham Manor.
Cherish is just on the opposite side of Fiona’s property at Northam Hall.
If no one suitable turns up in Brighton, we can resume the bride search in the fall, when my sons will be back in school and I shall be back in London. ”
“Then what is the point of my coming with you? What if you reject all the Brighton ladies, too? Then I’ll be there with you alone.”
“Hardly alone, since my boys will be with me and your friends will be nearby.” But he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender when she cast him a stubborn frown. “Fine, Gwen. Choose any four ladies on that precious list of yours.”
He gestured to the papers lying on the table beside her chair. She picked them up and clutched them tightly in her fist, debating whether to rip them up or merely set them aside for later use, although they were clearly useless at present.
“Don’t.” He placed his hand over hers, then eased the papers out from her fingers and set them back on the table. “Invite them and their families. Let’s do it and be done.”
“But you have already rejected them all.”
Honestly, was there ever a more exasperating man?
Even if he was excellent at kissing.
Which he was. To her dismay, her lips still tingled and her body was still on fire.
“As you said,” he continued, unperturbed, “perhaps I ought to consider them in relaxed surroundings. You have accused me of being too hasty and leaping to conclusions about these prospects. So, select four. In fact, pick those four ladies from any of your previous lists, if you wish.”
She had folders crammed into the top drawer of her desk that contained the names and background research on every young lady introduced to him.
“Invite the lady with big hands. Or the one with big feet. Or both. I don’t care. Invite those you deem worthiest down to Milbury Hill for a week in mid-July. You’ll still need to come ahead with me in order to plan and prepare.”
“This is going to be a disaster,” Gwen muttered.
How could any of the ladies introduced to him over these past few months win his heart when he had already dismissed them? He did not want those ladies.
But he’d kissed her as though he desired her.
Oh, that kiss.
Well, rakes knew how to make a lady feel special and wanted.
And by his own admission, Milbury had been a rake before he had settled down to marriage.
Perhaps mastering the art of kissing was like riding a horse.
One could just hop on and off without ever forgetting how to ride, no matter how long the span of time between hopping on and hopping off.
“I’ll select two from this list,” she said with resignation. “Miss Pouty Mouth and Miss Pointy Nose. But I’ll add two entirely new prospects to invite to your summer party, too. I’m not going to tell you who they are because I do not want to hear any more nonsensical excuses out of you.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Good. Done. Are we through with this marriage business for the morning?”
She nodded.
“Care to join me for a little shopping? My sons are growing so fast, they are running out of suitable clothes to wear. The Brighton shops simply do not have the extensive selection one finds here in London. I’m sure the boys will enjoy your company.”
“And you?”