“Miss Fairchild is planning to marry a man who may be involved in the death of her father. I’d say that does not speak well for her ability to see through a situation.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.” She wove her fingers together as the carriage slowed. Another minute, and they would be at the museum.
As he turned to her, a hint of a smile pulled at his mouth, catching her off guard. “I have a solution.”
“And what might that be?”
“You’re concerned we will not appear to be a properly enamored bride and groom. I know how to fix that.”
“Explain, please.”
“A new bride would look…thoroughly kissed, would she not?” He shifted his position, settling his long, lean body by her side.
“Well, yes,” she said, taking his meaning. “That might enhance the…authenticity of my disguise, so to speak.”
He looked very somber, save for the twinkle in his green eyes. “Am I to understand you wish me to kiss you?”
“I suppose it is a sacrifice, but an agent must do what an agent must do.”
“Agreed,” he said. One strong arm slid around her waist, and he pulled her close.
He dipped his head and softly pressed his lips to hers.
Awareness swept through her. Permeating every cell. Every nerve. The taste of his mouth was like a fine delicacy she’d craved for so very long.
Slightly coarse, yet so very gentle, his hands framed her face. The feel of his fingertips against her cheek stirred the yearning she’d carried deep within her.
His breath had gone rough, uneven.
And still, he caressed her with his mouth.
Tasting her.
Seeming to savor every moment of contact.
Demanding a response, even as he restrained his own.
Her pulse raced. She’d wanted this for such a long time.
But now that she’d tasted his kiss again, her hunger for him was fierce.
Oh, this had been a mistake.
But such a delicious one!
The rattle of the carriage wheels ceased. They’d come to a stop.
With a low moan, deep in his throat, he tenderly brushed his lips against hers. A sound of reluctance escaped him, and he released her.
“There,” he said with a cocky smile. “You’re ready now.”
She dragged in a breath. Another mistake. Her senses filled with the clean, brisk scent of his shaving soap.
“There?” she questioned.
“No one could doubt you’ve been freshly kissed.” His grin broadened. “Just as any newly wedded bride should be.”
