“You keep asking me that.”
His eyes burned. “You keep confusing me.”
“A confused Duke of Mortimer. That will not go well in your investigation, it seems like.”
“No, it won’t.”
Her heart pounded, louder than any time before. “And yet you are not pushing me away.”
“I do not push ladies.”
She grinned at him, his firm, dead serious answer. “That’s good, because I know what I want for my birthday.”
“I feel I shouldn’t ask anymore.”
He sounded so helpless, she laughed. “A kiss,” Louisa stated boldly. “I would very much like a kiss.”
*
A . .. kiss.
Oliver’s mind shut down. Before, she had punched him to show her shock and perhaps even ire, now she wanted him to kiss her again. As a birthdaygift? Surely, no kiss from him could be considered a gift. He’d only done it in the first place to blockher from the sight of the passersby, as well as cutting off his name being spoken, but that didn’t mean the moment his lips landed on hers it hadn’t sent a punch of its own straight to his gut.
The impact had been breathtaking.
Startling.
Deuced discomforting.
He didn’t need to think about her request. There could be only one answer. “No.”
“No?Why not?”
Many reasons. The mere idea of kissing her again sent a new storm tearing through him, warring with his better judgment, which should be hisonlyjudgement. The willpower it had taken back in the garden to keep his lips unmoving against hers had nearly brought him to his knees.
“Your request is not within my power.”
Her disbelieving gaze narrowed on him, accusing. “It feels like it is very much in your power.”
And yet it wasn’t because he knew the truth—his power would be lost the moment his lips touched hers again.
This angel . . .
The faint glow from the carriage lamps outside provided just enough light to outline the interior, casting dancing shadows across her breathtaking features. Her eyes held his steadily, and her breathing seemed to remain steady, too. However, Oliver could glimpse the tension in her posture, the way she held herself completely still.
She was close, so damn close.
“I believe you overestimate my strength of will, Louisa.”
Her shoulders softened fractionally, a seemingly unnoticeable action that a man like him would never miss. She had come to some sort of decision. And whatever that decision, it would be deuced tempting and damn hard to resist.
He wasn’t wrong.
Oliver pressed back against the seat, but there was no escaping her as her hands moved from where they hemmed him in and settled on each side of her face.
“Louisa.”
“As I told you, saying my name like that doesn’t help,” she said with a smile. “It’s my birthday, Oliver. Will you really deny this request of mine?”
