Page 65 of How Not to Marry a Duke

Warwick was keenly aware of the softness of Adeline’s lips as she met him halfway. Need raced through his veins as he shaped his lips to hers, learning the texture. Her lips parted on a sigh, and he took advantage to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid between her open lips, and she shivered in his arms.

Sweet. So sweet.

She was everything he’d imagined and more. Much more. He’d had lovers. Widows and even a divorcee. Women who knew what they’d wanted and understood what he’d wanted as well—a way to ease the urgings of the body without complications.

Adeline was entirely different. He didn’t kiss virgins. Daughters of earls. A half sister of his former rival.

None of it mattered. He wanted her with a fierceness that was irrational. Her tongue met his, tentative at first, then bolder. She tasted like a brilliant summer day in the country—warm, enticing, seductive. She moaned and came alive in his arms, angling her head to eagerly increase the contact of the kiss. His restraint snapped, and he was suddenly a starving man wanting to taste and take as much as she offered. Her fingers clutched his arms, moved higher to his shoulders, then buried in his hair. Her nails scraped his scalp, and it was like a lit match to hay.

The kiss increased in intensity, and his hands ran down her back and pressed her flush against him. At the first contact, silk sizzled against broadcloth. He longed to pick her up, place her on his workbench, and lift her skirts to reveal her pretty, long legs. To skim his hands up her stockings to discover the warm flesh of her inner thighs. His cock hardened in his trousers at the image.

Christ! What was he thinking? She deserved better. More.

He had to stop this madness before the remnants of his control shredded entirely. He tore his mouth from hers. Her eyes were closed, her lips glossy and plump from his kiss. He was breathing as hard as if he’d dug a deep ditch around his country home. “Adeline.” His voice was hoarse.

She lifted her long lashes. Her eyes were enormous and bright blue. She sucked in a breath and her breasts strained against her bodice. “Oh my. I hadn’t expected it to be quite so…enjoyable.”

“Neither did I.” The truth. Just his luck. She was just as passionate about kissing as her healing. Who would have thought?

Her cheeks colored. “Your Grace, we should—”

“Ah, right.” She was still pressed flush against him. Her breath brushed his throat and a renewed hunger to kiss her again raged inside him. He was a blackguard to take advantage. He was the more experienced and should have control. Instead, he’d lost every sense of reason at the mere taste of her tempting lips. Releasing her was no easy task. His chest felt like someone squeezed a fist inside it.

He picked up the stethoscope and placed it in her hands. “I promise, Adeline, it won’t happen again.”

…

“Well, well,” Lady Heywood drawled. “Warwick showed you his ballroom workshop and you haven’t taken the first coach back to the country. I consider that wonderful news!”

“I admit it was a bit shocking. Then he showed me some of the inventions, even gave me one called a stethoscope, and I find it fascinating.”

Fascinating was a more proper way to describe their kiss. Her thoughts skittered as she recalled their heated encounter. She’d been shocked at the first sight of his workshop but drawn to the man as soon as she’d entered. He’d captivated her with his virility and his inventions. And that kiss…heavens…that kiss. Hungers she hadn’t known existed had thundered in her veins. Heat had rippled under her skin as their tongues had touched and tasted. She’d wanted it to continue, to last forever. Yet he was the one to end the kiss, then promise it wouldn’t happen again. She should be relieved at that promise. Only she wasn’t.

What is wrong with me? The countess clapped her hands. “Even better news.”

“Pardon?” She’d already lost track of their conversation.

“That you find some of his work of interest, my dear.”

A different pang settled in her chest that was due to lying to her host. “What about the gossip rags? Is it causing you unwanted attention to have me reside with you?”

“Goodness no! I do not care what others say. It has taken this long, but my godson has developed an unexpected flair for attention. I never would have guessed it of a man who prefers the comforts of his workshop and the familiarity of his tools over the excitement of a party. I owe it all to you, my dear.”

“You must know that paper embellishes the truth,” Adeline said.

“Yes, but in your case, I hope the truth is much more exciting.” A twinkle lit the lady’s eyes. “Warwick cares for you. I see it clearly. If my godson needs a nudge, all you need to do is ask me for help, my dear.”

Before Adeline could answer, there was a knock on the parlor door. The lady’s butler announced His Grace a moment before he walked inside.

“Hello, Warwick,” Lady Heywood said with a smile. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Good morning, ladies.” Warwick bowed. “I’m here to ask Lady Adeline to accompany me to a scientific gathering.”

It was hard not to stare. Warwick looked incredibly handsome dressed in a blue coat, snowy cravat, and buff trousers. His green eyes blazed. Memories of their passionate kiss returned in a rush, and it took great effort not to reach up and touch her lips.

“Must it involve science, Warwick?” Lady Heywood asked in a motherly voice. “Ladies enjoy Gunther’s for ices. Or riding in the park. Or even chaperoned visits here.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe Adeline would enjoy it,” Warwick said.