“I was uncertain if you would join me,” Anthony said.
“I probably should not have,” Bridget said. “You are only feigning your attraction to me. Secret meetings are a little untoward.”
“Yes. They are.”
Bridget swallowed hard. “But I find that I…”
“Yes?”
Her throat was so tight that she found it difficult to speak. “I feel like I… I do not regret the kiss.”
He started, appearing visible taken aback. “You do not?”
“No. In fact, I should like to—to do it again,” Bridget said. “If… if I had known we were going to kiss, I feel I could have enjoyed it more.”
“I am only pretending to court you.”
“I know,” Bridget replied. “But I find that I still want…”
“You want me?” he asked, his voice ragged and raw. “To kiss you?”
“I—I should like it. Yes.”
Anthony ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. “I see.”
Bridget looked askance. They were still alone, for everyone else was still in the ballroom. It would be the perfect chance for Anthony to kiss her without anyone seeing.
“Would you like to kiss me?” she asked softly.
Anthony leaned forward and tilted his head. They stood so near one another that she felt his breath warm against her cheek.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“Yes.”
His lips pressed against hers, and Bridget moaned into his mouth. He smelled of orange blossoms and lavender, and she drank in the scent of him. His lips were soft and warm against her own. She pressed herself against him, wanting him to be her entire world. Her hands found his hair, and her fingers tangled in the thick locks.
When he broke the kiss, Bridget’s chest heaved for air. Her mouth tingled, and her body felt pleasantly, wonderfully alive.
“Did you enjoy that?” he murmured.
“Yes,” she breathed.
His hands found her waist and pulled her to him. Bridget’s hips pressed against his thighs, and she gasped as she felt a hardness dig into her stomach. She looked at Anthony with wide and questioning eyes.
“Do you find me…? I have heard that men…”
“Yes,” he said, gazing at her with heat in his eyes. “Does that disturb you?”
Bridget’s thighs quivered. He desired her. His body reacted to her, just as hers did to his presence. “No,” she replied. “No, not at all.”
Anthony kissed her again, and Bridget curled her fingers more tightly in his hair. She arched her back and kissed him as though her life depended on it. Between her thighs, heat blossomed. She moaned and pressed herself more insistently against him.
“Shall I show you something?” Anthony murmured, kissing her jaw.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Show me whatever you desire.”
He kept one hand on her waist. With his other hand, he grasped a handful of skirts and petticoats and slowly lifted them past her knees. She shivered as the cool air swept up her legs.
