Page 54 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
“Well, then.” Georgiana straightened her shoulders, her tone brisk. “We’re in agreement. Only a certain type of lady stirs a gentleman’s amorous inclinations, and I’m—”
“Amorous inclinations?” Where had he heard that phrase before? It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite recall where he’d…
Damn it. The first pangs of anger flickered in Benedict’s belly as it dawned on himwhat she meant.
Those ladies who don’t excite your amorous inclinations mustbe governesses.
“Are you saying, Georgiana,” he asked through clenched teeth, “that you think you’re the sort of lady a gentleman wouldn’t want forhis mistress?”
Her eyes widened at his tone. “Are youangry?”
“That depends,” Benedict gritted, his jaws grinding together. “Are you, or are you not, saying you think you couldn’t attract a protector?”
She drew herself up with a sniff. “I don’t see why you’re falling into a temper over it. After all,youmistook me for a governess thefirst time we—”
“No, I didn’t. You said I looked like the sort of gentleman who thought every woman I didn’t want to bed must be a governess, andIsaid—”
Georgiana gasped. “You’re mad! I never said a word about anyonebeddinganyone else!”
“AndIsaid there was nothing wrong with governesses, and you said the fault didn’t lie with the governesses, but with me, and then I asked why you thought I wouldn’t want to make you my mistress!”
She blinked. “I think I’ve lost the thread of thisconversation.”
“Damn it, Georgiana. How much champagne did you have? I asked why you think Kenilworth wouldn’t believe you’re my mistress, and the next I know you’re spouting some nonsense about Lady Wylde!”
She jerked her head toward him, startled by his vehemence. “There’s no need to become so agitated, my lord. I only meant there are a great many beautiful faces and figures for the gentlemen of London to choose from. Lady Wylde,for instance—”
“Devil take Lady Wylde! A man can’t walk down a street in London without stumbling over a dozen women just like her. There’s nothing special in Lady Wylde, whereas you, you’re…”
What? Benedict trailed off into silence as he struggled to come up with words that might encompass the entirety of who she was, and found he couldn’t do it. Georgiana Harley was so many things, each one more surprising than the last, and all of it wrapped up in the most brilliant, alluring package.
Clever? Yes, she was clever, but it wasn’t only that. He’d known clever women before. Ill-tempered? Yes, she was that, too. An unwilling smile tugged at his lips at the thought of her sharp tongue, but there was more to it than that. There must be, otherwise he wouldn’t find herso endearing.
As for her appearance…Benedict stared at her, the desire simmering in his belly rushing to the surface, stealing his breath, and sending a surge of hot blood to his cock.
The intelligence in her eyes, the way they couldn’t decide if they were green or gray or brown, but changed with her moods and the light and the colors she wore. Her hair, those strands of gold hidden like buried treasure in the thick waves, and the smooth, creamy skin she didn’t seem to realize was a temptation, luring his fingertips, making him ache to touch her, and her mouth, those sweet, plump pink lips hiding that tart tongue…
She was right about one thing—she was nothing like Lady Wylde, who was interchangeable with every other dark-haired London beauty. No, Georgiana was far more tempting, with a unique beauty that was wrapped up in everything else about her, andwholly her own.
She was gaping at him, her eyes wide with shock. “I don’t understand why you’re arguing the point with me, Benedict. You just said yourself the duke knew we were lying about my being your mistress, so I don’t see what—”
“Yes, but not because a man wouldn’t want to bed you!” Benedict’s anger was flaring to life again. “That’s bloody nonsense.”
Georgiana crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. “Is this your idea of flattery, my lord? Because I assure you, I don’t need your empty praise, or—”
“Not another word,” Benedict hissed through tight lips. “I’m warning you, Georgiana.”
“Howdare—”
That was as far as she got, because Benedict seized her wrists, tugged her against his chest, and took hermouth with his.
For the first few seconds, the kiss wasn’t so much an expression of desire as a battle of wills, with Georgiana determined to have her say, and Benedict just as determined to silence her.
But then…then, somehow, her mouth softened under his, and his tongue found its way between those irresistible pink lips, and the kiss became somethingelse entirely.
Wild, passionate, a tiny spark busting into flames. He’d had a taste of it earlier, when he’d pressed his lips to the soft skin of her wrist and felt the wild flutter of her pulse under his tongue, butthis…nothing could have prepared him for this.
The seductive heat of her mouth, her plump lower lip caught between his teeth, and her breathy little moan as he sucked and nibbled her there. Her hands on his cheeks burned his skin, the scent of her hair dizzied him, the sensual stroke of her lips against his maddened him.
