He eased back.
***
Alice pressed her hands against his chest, not quite sure whether she was pushing him away or just... not wanting to break all contact. His chest was warm and firm, and she fancied she could feel his heart beating under her fingers.
It couldn’t possibly be beating as fast as hers.
It took a few moments to clear her head. She had no idea kissing could be so... Like that.
He waited, gazing down at her with an unreadable look in his mist-dark eyes.
She moistened her lips. His eyes dropped to her mouth and darkened further.
She looked away—the intense look in his eyes was too distracting—and tried to gather her scrambled faculties.
He stroked a lock of hair away from her face. “It occurs to me that perhaps the aspect of marriage you disliked so much is the thing you call ‘um’—the activities in the marriage bed.”
Alice gasped. She didn’t know where to look. Stunned by his bluntness, she floundered before managing to say, “You should not— My marriage is—was private.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
She opened her mouth, closed it and looked away.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.
His calm demeanor was irritating. “This conversation is not appropriate. I wish you would stop.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m not trying to upset you, just... clear the air. So, how many men have you lain with?”
The question shocked her. She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. She looked toward the door, but the rain was pelting down heavier than ever. The windows were starting to fog up. She ought to remove herself from this conversation, rain or not. But she didn’t move.
He frowned. “None? Really? What about the fellow you wrote those letters to? Your secret lover.”
“Letters? What letters?”
“The ones Bamber is blackmailing you with.”
“Ididn’t write those letters! My husband did, to his mistress.” She added indignantly, “I’veneverhad a lover, secret or otherwise. I was a faithful wife.”
He gave her a thoughtful look, then nodded slowly. “I didn’t think you were the straying kind. And I suppose you were a virgin when you married.”
She didn’t answer. Of course she’d been a virgin. She was—had always been—a virtuous woman. It was outrageous of him to suggest otherwise.
“So,” he continued, “if you disliked the ‘um’ you experienced in the marital bed, and you’ve only ever lain with your husband, it’s clear with whom the fault lies.”
She felt herself flinch and turned her face away.
“Oh lord, don’t look like that. I didn’t mean you.” He caught her cold hands in his big warm ones. “I meant the fault lay with your husband, the late earl,” he said softly.
“Oh.” Thaddeus had never let up about her inadequacies as a wife. In all ways.
Lord Tarrant’s warm thumbs caressed her chilled fingers. “Most women find ‘um’—also known as sexual congress—pleasurable unless—”
She snatched her hands away. “They do not! My mother warned me it would be unpleasant, and it was— Oh why are we even talking of such matters? It is quite reprehensible of you. Not to mention inappropriate and unseemly.”
He placed a finger on her lips, stilling her. “You interrupted me.”
She blinked and pulled away. It was just a touch, but it was too... distracting. “What?”
