“I am…sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” A watery smile ghosts across my lips. “You frightened me.”
He has the grace to look ashamed. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you, Elsie.”
Alex tucks his hand behind my neck. Anticipation tightens my muscles. Heated weakness flushes through my body, an unfamiliar need pulsing in my core. My breasts are heavy inside the tight bodice, suddenly aching to be freed from their prison.
I never felt like this when Tremaine touched me. Not once. I shove the unwanted thought away and place one hand on Alex’s shoulder. His warm breath skims my cheek.
“I want nothing more than to take care of you, Elsie.”
A tiny moan catches in my throat like a kitten’s purr.
“Protect you.” His lips graze the shell of my ear. The world has narrowed until it contains only the two of us. “Kiss you.”
“Yes.” I manage to push the word past my lips with the last air in my lungs. It’s dizzying to feel him this close. To breathe him in. Still not close enough.
He brings his hand higher, cupping the back of my skull. His other arm slides around my waist. This close, I can see the blade of his nose and every hair in his brows. I can’t recall ever being this close to a man before. Every part of me yearns for his touch, yet one thing holds me back.
“Wait. I’ve never been kissed before,” I whisper. “I don’t know how.”
Shame slides through me when Alex pulls back. I ruined the moment.
“Never?” His eyes search mine. “Not once?”
I shake my head. My tongue darts out to dampen my lips. His pupils, already blown, widen further, swallowing the verdancy. A forest at midnight.
“Show me?” I plead.
He groans and yanks me forward, locking me against his chest. The arm around my waist slides up my back, between my shoulder blades. Gently, he cups my chin and brushes his lips over mine. Chaste. Sweet.
Not what I want.
I chase the kiss when he pulls away fractionally. The low rumble of laughter in his chest should be a warning that I’m doing this wrong.
I don’t have it in me to stop.
He rearranges his hold on me, taking my face in both hands and slants his mouth across mine. I drink in his kiss as though it’s life itself.
The electric current frizzing over my skin deepens into a roll of thunder, like a storm breaking over my body, when he parts his lips and his tongue brushes mine. Eagerly, I open to him. The first taste is pure nectar. My hands twist in his hair, trying to drag him closer despite the fact that he’s quite a bit taller than me. A small sound of satisfaction escapes me when I press fully against his front, and a stiff bulge nudges my thigh.
I know what that means.
I should be afraid of his physical response, but I’m drunk on kissing.
“Your High?—”
Alex freezes.
“Fuck off, Minge. I’m busy.” He releases me just enough to put one arm around my waist and guide me toward a passageway I hadn’t noticed before. “Tell whomever is looking for me that I’ve made my decision, and to leave me alone for the rest of the evening.”
“But, sir…”
“Shut. Up.”
The speed with which Alex switches between charming to snappish fury alarms me. The scribe’s deference feels off. I guess Alex must not be a servant, after all. How to explain his ill-fitting jacket, then?
“Never mind him. I’d like to show you a secret, Elsie.” Charming Alex is back. The angry part of him seems to bubble just beneath the surface. I have so little experience with men. Perhaps all of them are temperamental.