Page 17 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
That’s when she came to her senses. She pulled herself back and stood, putting distance between them. His hazel eyes had darkened so much she couldn’t even see any of the color from his irises and his chest rose in rapid breaths.
She put a hand to her mouth. Oh God. She’d been wrong.
“Agnes,” he said, his voice rough.
She shook her head. “You were right.”
“I was?”
She searched for any sign of arrogance in his tone but found none. “You must be right. Passion must not have anything to do with affection. Either that or we’re in love.” She snorted. “And we both know how ridiculous that notion is.”
“Yes, ridiculous,” he repeated.
“I have to go.” With that she turned and fled. She ignored his voice as he called to her. And she didn’t stop running until she’d reached the steps to her home. She stopped before opening her front door, her heart pounding so furiously. It wasn’t from her light jog home, she recognized that. No, this was purely a reaction to Fletcher and his kiss.
She almost missed the letter on the stoop, but her shoe shuffled against the paper, drawing her attention to it.
