Page 16 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
She’d known for years that his grandfather’s townhome was only two doors down from her family’s, yet she’d never had reason to call upon him. Though she knew she could sit on the settee in the parlor while waiting for Fletcher to appear, Agnes remained standing. He didn’t make her wait long before he entered the room, no cravat with the top two buttons unfastened, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, and bare feet.
She had no standing to lecture him on his behavior since she’d come to his home to see him. Unannounced and uninvited.
“Agnes.” He came to stand in front of her and gripped her arms gently. His features etched in concern. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I am well. Everything is well. I merely wanted—” She shifted her shoulders and notched her chin up. “I wanted to continue our discussion from the other night, and you were not in attendance at the Anderson ball this evening.”
His hazel eyes darkened and a muscle in his jaw tensed. “You want to continue chastising me about my affairs?”
“Specifically, your problem with lust,” she said abruptly.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes, lust.” He moved to sit on the settee and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. “Though again we have a difference of opinions, because I fail to see it as a problem.”
He had nice feet, she couldn’t help but notice. And it was far better to notice his toes than to fixate on how strong his thighs looked encased in his trousers, or how the cords of his muscular forearms seemed to draw her attention. Spending this much time with her thoughts on lustful behavior was toying with her mind. She never noticed such things before.
“Sit, Agnes.” He motioned to the empty space next to him.
She acquiesced but sat with enough space between them to fit another person. A rather large person in fact. “I thought I would give you the opportunity to prove your theory.”
“My theory? And what would that be?”
“That there is pleasure to be found between people who are not emotionally bound.”
“I have proven that sentiment time and time again,” he said. His arms crossed over his broad chest.
She took a bracing breath and met his warm gaze. “To yourself, perhaps, but in my esteem your logic is flawed. I’m presenting you with the opportunity to prove yourself.” She paused, gathering her courage. “To me.”
He chuckled. “How do you propose I do that?”
“Kiss me.”
His brow furrowed, then his eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Yes, you should kiss me. I propose that because we are not emotionally attached to each other that there will be no real pleasure found in a romantic embrace.”
He shook his head. “No.”
She arched one brow. “Are you so uncertain of your hypothesis?”
“That’s not it at all. I have rules I follow. Self-constructed rules. I do not touch virgins, I do not touch married women, and I never dally with any woman long enough to get emotionally involved.” He ticked off each rule on a finger. “You, my dear Agnes, are a virgin and therefore you are off-limits.”
“That’s ridiculous. I am not proposing we have an affair.” Just the mention of the word caused her face to flame. Her cheeks warmed to such a degree she nearly fanned herself. “I am suggesting a simple experiment.”
He said nothing in response to that.
Her skin prickled everywhere. She stood. “Very well. Then you must concede my point.”
“I will do no such thing. I know you’re wrong. I will not lie to appease you,” he said, coming to his feet. He gripped her chin, gently, tilting her head so she could look up into his face. “Are you truly saying that you will feel no passion, no pleasure, if I kiss you?”
“That is, in fact, what I’m saying,” she said. The only reason her heart was beating faster and her breaths were shallow was because she was nervous. She didn’t go around asking men to kiss her. This was new territory for her. That explained her physical reaction more so than his nearness and hand on her face.
His thumb rubbed gently across her bottom lip. “Oh, Bluebell, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy proving you wrong.” With that he lowered his lips to hers.
His hands cradled her face as his mouth moved against hers, slowly, sinfully. He nipped at the corners of her mouth, then ran his tongue lightly over her bottom lip.
On instinct, she parted her lips and their mouths caressed each other’s. Then he slid his tongue into her mouth, rubbing it against hers. She released a little moan and arched her body to get closer. Boldly she reciprocated his moves and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He growled and deepened the kiss.
Their mouths moved in sync until the kiss became an entity all its own. Her entire body flamed with awareness. One of his hands slipped from her face to her neck and then to her chest, just resting at the edge of her bodice. Her breasts rose and fell, nearly begging for his palm.
