Page 65 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

There was her opening. “So is that it, Mr. Camden? Do you…do you love me?”

His eyes widened to the point where she could see every reddened vein, even in this dim light. “Well, Miss Powel, um, I mean… I’m not one who speaks well on these things.”

She blew out a breath, feeling her head start to ache. “Just a yes or no, if you please. It would make things so much clearer.”

“Oh. Oh yes, I see.” He paused and looked at her, obviously waiting.

She returned his stare, her own eyebrows rising in anticipation. “Mr. Camden?”

“Yes.”

Her insides tightened, but not in a pleasant way. “Yes?”

He blinked. “Yes?”

Was he echoing her question or answering it? “Mr. Camden!” she cried. “I don’t understand your meaning.”

And then it happened, nearly as she’d hoped. He leaped forward and took her head between his hands. He wasn’t as large as Lord Whitly, and his aim was off, so one of his fingers landed painfully in her ear. But the intent was the same, and that was what she focused on. Better yet, his mouth was headed toward hers, and she obediently closed her eyes. The view of his pointed nose was not that appealing.

Their mouths met.

His was wet and tasted of acid. She pulled back in shock, even though she had been the one to create the situation. As she gasped, his tongue invaded her mouth.

Oh. Oh my. She hadn’t remembered this being so very wet. And his tongue was forceful, nearly gagging her.

She tried to enjoy it. She really did. But…oh, this was getting slobbery.

She coughed and wrenched backward, breaking the seal of their mouths. She tried to step back, but there was little room, and he was holding her tightly, kissing a wet trail along her cheek. In her mind, she was thinking No, no, no. This is not how it is supposed to be! But he couldn’t hear her, and his hands slid down her back to grip her bottom.

That was wrong, she decided, as panic began to tighten her throat. She was shoving at him now, pushing against his chest and trying to squirm away. He must have misunderstood, because he gasped out a fevered, “Miss Powel!”

Which was when she lost her temper. Thankfully, she had a brother who had taught her a few things. She was in her strong half boots, and while Mr. Camden tried to push his face back to hers, she slammed her foot down hard onto his foot.

He leapt back with a howl, only to trip over a stack of books and tumble to the ground. The sound was deafening, but no louder than the rapid pound of fury in her ears.

She knew she was being irrational. She had instigated this encounter, but it was supposed to be pleasurable. It was not meant to leave her face slimy while nausea churned in her gut.

Mr. Camden was righting himself while she fished out a handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her face. A sudden pounding on the door had her cursing under her breath.

“Mr. Camden! Is everything all right?” called the secretary.

She looked to Mr. Camden, who was red-faced as he pushed to his feet. “I’m fine,” he snapped. “Just tripped over the books, is all.”

“But—”

He stomped over to the doorway and wrenched it open. On the door’s other side, the young secretary stared at them both with wide eyes. Just how discomposed did she look? Was wayward emblazoned across her forehead? Or perhaps it was written in her wild hair.

“Go back to work,” Mr. Camden snarled in a darker voice than she’d ever heard before. Apparently, it was a shock to the young man as well, who jumped as if poked. He nodded and scrambled away without so much as a peep.

“He will talk to his friends,” she said miserably. Bad enough to be the subject of gossip among the ton, but it upset her to think she would be an object of fun among Mr. Camden’s subordinates. Whatever had possessed her to come here?

Meanwhile, Mr. Camden turned back to her, his expression tight. Why was he angry? This was all his fault. What man turned kissing into an attack by a mastiff?

“Your hair is untidy,” he said as he straightened his waistcoat.

“You made it so,” she shot back as she tried to smooth the strands down.

“No,” he countered, “it was messy when you first arrived. I noticed it right away.”