Page 27 of Unmasking the Earl

Sweet Venus.

He intended to kiss her!

Chapter Fourteen

Ganstridge’s lips were hard and demanding, overwhelming every part of Cassie’s mouth like a cavalry charge. Unprepared for his sudden onslaught, her jaw went slack, and his tongue pressed forward, invading her and taking control of all her senses.

She should push him away, slap him, stamp on his toes, scream for help. But her body refused to cooperate. Everything was focused on the man and the heat of his touch, the powerful hand on the back of her neck holding her steady, the fingers stroking her face, their movements becoming more confident when she didn’t resist, working in harmony with his tongue.

A powerful yearning sprang to life in her belly, flooding hotly through the rest of her body, making her breasts ache and her center tingle with anticipation. Was this what desire felt like? That feral, elemental desire which drew male and female together like iron to a magnet?

She tried to tell herself it was disgraceful to allow this man to kiss her, in broad daylight no less, in the middle of Wycherley’s drawing room. No, not just allow it, but welcome it. But it was no use. Her body was melting to his touch, her lips and tongue following his lead, exploring him, inciting him, reveling in the heavenly wickedness of mutual desire.

She was drunk on the taste of him, dizzy with the feel of him. Not even the heady excitement of dancing with Julian had awakened feelings like this.

The thought of her beloved washed over her like a bucket of cold water. What was she doing?

She placed her hands firmly against Ganstridge’s chest and pushed.

For a moment nothing happened, then he stepped backward, breathing hard.

“Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her as if she had just grown two heads.

“I second that sentiment,” she replied, gingerly touching her bruised mouth.

He blinked. “I… Forgive me. That was not what I intended.”

Her reaction hadn’t been what she’d intended, either. But to be perfectly honest…she’d enjoyed it.

A lot.

Who was this man, who could bring her to tears with a few well-chosen words and make her want to rip all her clothes off just because he’d kissed her?

She swallowed. “Let us assume,” she ventured, trying to get her husky voice back under control, “that we have both made a foolish mistake. I think, perhaps, this evens the score between us, Mr. Ganstridge. You can no longer report my so-called hoydenish behavior to my father, and I would feel a hypocrite were I to report you to your master.”

Ganstridge dragged a hand through his hair. “Please sit down, Miss Blythe. There is something I need to tell you.”

A trickle of foreboding slithered through her. She sat.

“You were wise to suspect me. My name is not Ganstridge, and I’m no servant. My name is Edmund Talbot, and I am the Earl of Stranraer. My Aunt Claudette lived here in Oxford…until quite recently.”

Cassie felt the world spin round. She clutched at the tea table, her jaw dropping. “You are Stranraer?” she said incredulously. “The missing earl?”

And yet, the stunning revelation explained a lot. The insubordination, the pomposity, the total confidence that his opinions were the only correct ones.

Well, really!

“I see I’ve shocked you, Miss Blythe,” he said. “Unless that is pure disbelief?”

She snapped her mouth shut. Sweet Venus! She’d just been kissed by the Earl of Stranraer!

And what a kiss it had been…

“Oh no,” she managed. “I can very well believe it. I knew there was something suspicious about you from the very first.”

“Indeed?” His lips curved. “I thought I’d been doing rather well.”

She ignored his obvious reference and straightened. “With that ridiculous accent? Spare me. Shall I recite all the things that gave you away?”