Category: Marguerite Kaye

I supposed you’ve already kissed him? Don’t deny it, that guilty look is a complete giveaway. Did you like it?” “Felicity!” “Well?” “Yes.” Ainsley laughed. “Yes, I did.” “Was it a good kiss? The kind of kiss to give you confidence that your Mr. Drummond would know what he was doing? The kind of kiss that made you want him to do more than kiss you?

My father prided himself on maintaining traditions that were hundreds of years old. You’ll feel as if you’ve stepped back into the eighteenth century.” Her brows lifted in surprise. He could see the wheels turning in her clever brain, but she chose merely to nod, and perversely, though he knew he would not like it, he wanted to know what she was thinking. “Go on. Say it.” “It is nothing. Only – you are very much a man of the nineteenth century.” “You mean you’re not surprised I left such a backward place.” “Such a backward place must be crying out for a man like you.” Ainsley pushed her windswept hair out of her eyes.

Kissing gave a man all sorts of immoral ideas. Such ideas were, in Madame Hera’s world, the province only of men. That Ainsley herself had had ideas – her mind boggled, trying to imagine what Madame would say to that. In fact, those very ideas cropped up in several of the letters Felicity had forwarded to her, variously referred to as ‘unnatural desires,’ ‘longing,’ ‘carnal stirrings,’ fever of the blood,’ ‘indecent thoughts’ and even, memorably, ‘an irrepressible need to scratch an itch.

Celeste grabbed his arm. “You see, you are running away from the truth. Why won’t you talk about it?”“Take your hands off me. Now.”She had gone too far. She knew it would be insane to push him further, but she knew with certainty that was exactly what she was going to do. Celeste tilted her head and met his stormy eyes. “No.

She had always swum alone. She had never swum in the company of a man, and this man — She dragged her eyes away again….”Go in. I will follow you but don’t look.”Jack laughed. “I never make promises I can’t keep,” he said.

Celeste.” Jack grinned. “How every appropriate. An angel sent from heaven to relieve my boredom.””An artist sent from France to paint your brother’s estate,” she retorted.”Touché’. In that case we should get down to business.

His eyes darkened. His hands slid up to her shoulders. She leaned into him as he pulled her towards him. It started so gently. Soft. Delicate. Celeste leant closer. The kiss deepened. she could feel the damp of his shirt and the heat of his skin beneath it. A drop of perspiration trickled down between her breasts, and she felt a sharp twist of pure desire.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the taste of her and the feel of her and the smell of her. She was quite lovely. She was altogether ravishing. She would set any man’s blood on fire. He shouldn’t have kissed her.

You’re warning me off. There’s no need, I assure you. At this moment in time, my only ambition is to get myself through the day —” He broke off, realising too late what he’d admitted, remembering, suddenly, why he had kissed her in the first place. And now he’d given her the perfect opening to start again.But to his surprise, her expression softened. “Yes,” she said. “That is how I have felt since — since.” She blinked rapidly, and forced a smile. “It is a good thing, this — this—between us, because now I know that I am recovering myself…