Page 41 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

The open collar of his shirt afforded her a view of hair dusting chiseled pectorals. She swallowed. Hard.

“What is your proper response?” he asked.

Shoving her hands into his shirt to scrape her fingers through that hair was most assuredly not the proper response. However, Josie had practiced greetings until they were second nature, and Nicolas knew this, so what was he up to? Barely able to breathe with the need zinging through her, she stood and performed her ladylike dip.

“Excellent,” Nicolas said.

She preened. Why was his approval over something she already knew how to do making her blush and flutter her lashes?

Nicolas stepped closer and grasped her hand.

Could one faint from exhilaration?

“A lady should never offer her hand on the first introduction. However, after this, she may offer a man her hand. But tread carefully.Once you do this, you are openly declaring your intention to court a man.”

But she had not offered Nicolas her hand. He had grabbed it and was currently warming it in his large, masculine palm.

“For a gently bred lady, even shaking a gentleman’s hand can be seen as being overly familiar.” His throaty words skimmed across her cheek. “This is an example of something you might do that is considered too friendly.” His fingertips skimmed over her palm.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she shivered.

“Lingering touches such as this are quite inappropriate.” He turned her hand over and gently caressed her knuckles, taking care to trace each motley bruise.

Was she about to be shown an example of everything a lady and a gentleman shouldnotdo? Hopefully so, since the naughty prospect thrilled her.

“Overly passionate hand kisses in public could become the subject of gossip.” With his gaze glued to hers, he pressed his lips to each knuckle.

Then, it was a good thing they were not in public because her hands were her livelihood, and they deserved some tender loving care.

His lips hovered over her wrist, and his heady breath blew across her knuckles. “A lady should withdraw her hand from an overly enthusiastic gentleman with an emphatic air of disapproval.”

Her quivering legs and rapid breathing made it difficult to think. Was he telling her to pull her hand away? Because she didn’t want to break contact. Somehow, she conjured her voice to shakily ask, “What should a lady do if she wants a gentleman to continue?”

He growled. “That is what I prayed you’d say.”

Dropping her hand, he pulled her so close that her aching breasts pressed against his torso. His intoxicating citrusy scent swathed her in a dream-like haze.

“Nicolas,” she whispered, mostly because she liked saying his name.

“Hmm?” He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and stared into her eyes, burning a path straight to her soul.

“I’ve never been kissed,” she confessed.

His guttural groan sounded like desire.

“Well, on the lips,” she added, rambling on like a nervous ninny. “Because you just kissed my hand. Which I rather…”

Lowering his head, he slanted his mouth over hers, capturing the rest of her response. She stiffened for a moment but instantly relaxed into his embrace as his soft lips coaxed mewling sounds of pleasure from her.

Holy bollocks!Nicolas Wentworth was kissing her. Honest to God, mouth on her mouth, kissing her, and he tasted like sweet cream.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to care that she tasted like a sandwich because he pulled her closer and trailed kisses over her lips. He also didn’t seem to mind that she had no idea what she was doing as she awkwardly imitated him. He, in fact, seemed to like what she was doing because his arousal made itself known, pressing into her hip.

His hands roamed up and down her back, soothing years of tight, overly trained muscles and leaving her a pile of moldable mushiness.

He broke from the kiss to pant out, “God above, Josephine.”

Although she favored his labored breathing and gravelly words, she needed him to continue kissing her. She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged until his lips were again on hers. She continued yanking until he was devouring her with such ferocity, they were like wild animals mauling one another.