Undone by His Kiss (9 page)

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Her cheeks grew pink in the most delightful way.

“Thank you again for assisting with the door.” She smoothed her palm over her hair and he noticed the chain on her wrist, an elaborate piece of jewelry that glittered in the lantern light.

“What an unusual bracelet. Is it a family heirloom?” He stepped a bit closer.

“No, it was a gift.” She smiled. “And a very lovely gesture.”

Jasper noticed the way her eyes twinkled as she admired the charms. “Is that a silver dove? Its design is similar to the one I have below the lettering on my office window.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” She touched a fingertip to the charm and then shook her wrist gently, the bracelet sliding to rest. “I thank you again, Jasper. I feel much better now.”

“That is good to hear, although you shouldn’t be walking about the streets of the city unescorted.”

She straightened her posture, her shoulders squared. He’d struck a nerve.

“Please don’t tell me what I shouldn’t be doing. It’s belittling and dismissive.”

He recognized the gentle chide for what it was, a kind reminder, although truth prodded his brain-box with the hypocrisy of the situation. How he despised when Dash dictated orders and assumed he couldn’t accomplish the simplest task.

“You’re quite right. Pardon me. I shouldn’t have behaved so rag-mannered although I remain concerned for your safety.” He didn’t add that it might have been a scoundrel who approached her near the doorway.

“I’m no concern of yours, Jasper.”

She whispered the reply and dropped her eyes while the niggling notion that he’d like her to be, prodded his brain. Dare he think she spoke from obligation and might prefer the opposite? There was no way to know for sure.

The silence stretched into ill-ease and he said goodbye, jetting down the stairs and to his office, though his thoughts and feelings remained above. He paced in front of his desk before settling into the chair, only to stand and pace again.

Perhaps he should return upstairs and ascertain Miss Shaw remained in high spirits. Miss Shaw? He’d kissed her yet he still hadn’t learned her first name? That was reason enough to scurry upstairs.

Things seemed unfinished when he’d left.
Unfinished because he wished to continue their incredible kissing.
What to do?

Kellaway entered while he still deliberated, settling all his emotional turmoil with missed opportunity.

“What has you turned inside out?” Kell posed the friendly question with more jest than concern.

“None of your business.” Jasper forced himself to stop pacing.

“The only times I’ve seen you like this, my friend, is when you’ve lost your head over a bit of muslin.” Kellaway settled in the nearest chair and propped his boots on the edge of the desk. “You’re too serious. You need to live life as if each day’s your last.”

Jasper shot him a look of reprimand. “If all you can offer is criticism at my expense, you can keep your breath to cool your porridge.” In an attempt to calm, he also took a chair, the action disrupting the paperwork spread across the blotter.

“Porridge? I never eat porridge.” Kell snatched his boots away and leaned forward as if to conspire a grand idea. “Sorry about the other night. My plans changed rather unexpectedly and I was busy.”

“I noticed,” Jasper said in a withering tone. “By the by, you’re going to have to curb your rakish activities once you assume the title. Your father won’t live forever and I doubt you aim to be the most dissolute peer in London. You’re better than that, my friend.”

“So you say.” Kellaway glanced out the large glass window. “My father will have a bit of reckoning when the coward returns to London. But forget that, I’ll amend my change of plans. This evening, why don’t we do the expected? I’ve tired of winning and the hells will welcome my absence tonight. What say you get word to Oliver and the three of us attend some fashionable frolic in Mayfair?”

Jasper’s interest was piqued. A ton social was the perfect place to attract clients. The upper ten thousand had money aplenty and he held no reservation in assisting the spending process. Besides, the more credibility he could build within the ton, the less his brother would underestimate his abilities. Or at least he hoped the two related in proportion.

“Brilliant idea.” He might have expounded, but a flash of Miss Shaw’s cornflower-blue gown and chestnut hair interrupted his line of vision and grabbed his attention. It really wasn’t advisable that she walk home unescorted. But she didn’t leave, turning instead to inspect the large glass window and enter
Inventive Investments
. He straightened his posture, thankful Kell had removed his boots from the corner of the desk.

“Pardon, I didn’t mean to interrupt an important meeting.” She settled her gaze in his direction.

Jasper stood, rounded the desk and smiled. “Not at all. Kellaway isn’t important. He’s my friend.” Realizing the hash he’d made of that statement, he threw Kell a glare as the viscount rose in kind. Introductions were swiftly made.

“Have we met before, Lord Kellaway? You look familiar.”

Miss Shaw’s apprehensive question honed Jasper’s attention, hungry for any scrap of information revealing her person.

“I’m sure I would remember.” Kellaway quirked a devilish grin. “A man doesn’t forget uncommon beauty.”

Jasper shot him another glare, but the rogue ignored it.

Miss Shaw studied the viscount. “I must be mistaken.”

“Kell was just leaving.” With a strong nod, Jasper implored Kell to obey and his friend hit the mark.

“Don’t forget about this evening. We’ll meet at nine.” Kellaway threw out the casual reminder and smiled at Miss Shaw before taking his leave.

Her attention trailed the viscount all the way to the street and a pang of annoyance jockeyed for position among the other emotions racing within Jasper’s chest. He cleared his throat. Loudly.

“I wished to thank you again before I returned home.” She canted her head to the side as if deliberating over the precise words needed. “I was upset earlier, but I’m much better now.”

He wanted to reply that kissing could do that to a person, but he thought better than to press the issue. “Then I’ve achieved my goal.”

“And what happened abovestairs…”

“Yes?”

“Was very nice.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “But should never happen again. I’m afraid I was caught unaware and shouldn’t have allowed the gesture.”

“I see.” Although he didn’t. His heart still pounded from the pleasure found in her kiss. Grappling for any reason to keep her longer, he flicked his eyes to the front window. “There.” He pointed to the lettering and design. “The charm on your bracelet is almost an exact match.”

“How very unusual.”

They studied the bracelet against her wrist. The silver dove, wings spread as if caught in flight, looked in identical pose to the painted insignia below the gold lettering of
Inventive Investments
.

“It’s an uncanny likeness and rather odd coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?” She wriggled her wrist with the question.

“Indeed.” Her hands were so delicate and small, yet the impact they’d had when she’d smoothed them up his shoulders made him wish she’d touched his skin rather than the cloth in between.

“Have you been friends with Lord Kellaway long? Do you know him well?”

She met his eyes, her brows furrowed as if giving the matter serious consideration, but Jasper never had the chance to reply, all attention drawn to the roadway where two carriages collided, the driver of each in frenzied argument, while the horses rebelled against the straps. A cat, the same stray Jasper had seen in the office hall, sat at the center of the
mêlée
, its back arched and tail high as it hissed, distempered at the ruckus.

Miss Shaw ran to the door, but the crack of a whip rent the air before either of them could intercede and shoo the cat to safety. As they ventured outside, the driver wielding the leather struck the cat across its hind quarters, sending it scampering to the alleyway adjacent the office, where it dropped to the cobbles, nearly touching the tips of Jasper’s boots as that made quick to follow.

In tandem, Miss Shaw and Jasper stooped to inspect the animal, who recovered with remarkable zeal and leapt away, leaving them nose to nose and more befuddled than anything else.

Jasper looked into Miss Shaw’s captivating blue eyes and wondered how he’d ever concentrate again having tasted her delicious kiss. What would she do if he captured her mouth right now in the center of the city in the middle of the day?

A frisson of anticipation and attraction bound them tight, drawing their mouths closer, until only an infinitesimal space remained. For one timeless fragile moment he felt entranced and with surety the lady experienced it as well. Her eyes appeared dazed and starry and he could hear the abbreviated breath they shared in the slight space which dared separate them. His pulse took up a thunderous gallop and as he stared, he fell deeper and deeper into a wary state of primal emotion, the like of which he’d never known before. Her eyes shuddered closed with a soft gasp, as if she was equally affected by the unexplainable and poignant moment, so vulnerable he might have believed it was pure imagination if not for the yawning ache of undetermined feeling gripping his chest. He forced himself to take a sturdier breath.

Too soon the clamoring intrusion of the street shook him loose from the fanciful notion and they stood, with cautious regard for the unexplainable and sensual happening, parting ways with little more than a perfunctory nod, forever changed by the events of the tumultuous day.

Chapter 11

Emily’s mind spun, a dozen thoughts dashing through her head, none of them willing to settle as her slippers drummed a determined rhythm in sync with her pounding heart.

He’d kissed her.

Jasper had kissed her.

And she’d allowed it and kissed him back with fervor.

Worse, she’d enjoyed it.

No, that didn’t describe it. She had no vocabulary to describe it. There weren’t words invented to describe it. It had been every emotion, every wish, dream, sensation and desire all together at once, in one kiss, and lord that frightened her, more than anyone or anything.

His kiss was a seduction. A very dangerous seduction. And the moments in the alley afterward…now she remained forever changed. She could no longer take respite without the heated memory of his lips pressed to her skin, his tongue stroking the hollows of her mouth and offering her pleasure upon pleasure finding a way to intersect intelligent thought. He’d ruined her with a kiss and proven his dangerous threat to her independence with nothing more than a momentary distraction.

Years ago, before she thought about ballrooms and etiquette or considered courtship and kisses, she’d vowed never to be dependent on a man; never to relinquish control of her future, the power of her heart. Once a man owned a woman’s emotions, the future was doomed, dictated by the strict laws of society; the same rules which decreed a women’s sole purpose in life to serve as wife and mother. She’d learned that lesson through her mother’s misery and Emily refused to repeat the pattern. She wanted so much more out of life.

Pausing to look both ways at the corner, she slowed her steps, savoring the memory of Jasper’s kiss, determined to consider it during the walk home only, then guard her heart and forget it forever. She’d lock it away, much like she kept her desk drawer secure, unwilling to confront the emotion attached to the contents, unwilling to trust fate with her heart.

Because truly, she had no other choice. The kiss had awakened feelings she didn’t know existed. Oh, she wished to be loved, and wanted to be cherished with as much desire as any young woman. But she couldn’t take the risk, unwilling to trust and relinquish power to an emotion that proved fickle and erratic, temporary at best. Her father’s betrayal, her mother’s false reality, the few examples of love in her life supported her suspicions with airtight evidence. Her father had whittled away her mother’s confidence and pride until only raw emotion remained. The abusive experience still held her mother captive despite he was gone. The thought of ending up like that scared the breath from Emily’s lungs.

Still, what had she done? What was she thinking?

No, she shook her head in emphasis. It was just one kiss.

A kiss didn’t have to be the beginning of romance and the end of freedom. Maybe a kiss could just be a kiss.

But
why
had he done it?

To prove a point most likely. Men enjoyed nothing better than believing themselves right in all instances. Jasper probably regretted his impulsive act of affection, so why should she belabor the thought?

With her heart at odds and her mind made up, she entered the town house through the kitchen and climbed the backstairs. She stalled before her mother’s bedchamber and placed her ear against the door. Silence answered. With hope her mother napped.

She returned to her rooms, keeping her vow to forget Jasper’s kiss and focus all attention on considering Lord Kellaway. When she first saw him, a prickling of gooseflesh dotted her skin with anxious recognition. They hadn’t met before, yet a sense of familiarity and a tug of imperceptible urgency begged she not dismiss the gentleman too lightly, while also presenting yet another disconcerting set of circumstances to her overtaxed emotions.

Jasper chalked the end of the cue, aimed with precision and executed the shot, an ivory ball dropping into the corner pocket before the others settled against the padded rail. Sequestered from the meddling mamas, wallflowers, and anxious ladies seeking partners for the quadrille, Lord Roxton’s study was the perfect location for attending a popular social without truly being present. Kellaway’s idea had merit, although the three men, including Oliver, agreed they had no desire to flounce down a dance line or converse with young chits sipping ratafia. Jasper kept a keen eye on the card tables across the room, anxious to discuss business with any bloke who might seek a more sound investment than the ante in the center of the table.

“Tell me about the slip of a girl I met in your office this morning. Is she the one who has you turned inside out?” Kell snatched up the cue stick and stalked the arrangement on the baize-covered table before aligning his shot. “She’s pretty. I’ll give you that.”