The Lady in Disguise

Chapter Twenty-Three

Byrne wasn't sure just what came over him. He'd never been tempted to kiss any of the simpering debutantes that had thrown themselves in his path before. Then again, Miss Crewe did very little simpering... Well, apart from when cooing at that silly dog.

On first approaching her, he'd told himself he'd only moved closer to her to hear what was going on outside. But who was he trying to fool? He'd had very little interest in Miss Marbury's argument with Tony. Tony had very likely put his foot in it at some point with the poor girl, as he very often did. No, Byrne just wanted to be close to her again, in the dark, with the warm scent of roses on her skin. He didn't know when such an opportunity would come again. He didn't plan to kiss her, but he didn't try to stop himself at all when she turned.

This was a terrible idea and certainly wouldn't improve her suddenly sour opinion of him and his supposed rakish ways. A ridiculous assumption. He didn't know how she came by it. He knew other men might preen at being called such, but he certainly didn't. As he'd said, "A man with a series of... discreet friendships is not the same as a rake." And he stood by it. Then again, he'd also said, "Your virtue is perfectly safe with me if that's what you're worried about." He didn't seem to be standing by that at the moment.

It was hard not to kiss her, after several days of her dark eyes straying in his direction, her silly jokes, her babbling, her awkward silences, her blushes... She must want him, too. Perhaps not as badly as he wanted her, but there was something in the way the air seemed to almost crackle between them at times that made it feel like this kiss was always coming for them. It was only a matter of when. 

He was tired of trying to keep it at bay when giving in was so much more enjoyable. Her lips were soft, her form was warm against him. He could feel her skin, his fingers subtly caressing the space between her gloves and her sleeves. He shifted, his lips surrounding her bottom lip, at which she gave a slight gasp, stiffening slightly.

He then realized something that perhaps he should have realized before. Her arms had remained still at her sides. She was not kissing him back. She did not want this. How had he convinced himself she might?

He started to move away, apology at the ready, when he felt it — her lips under his, puckering like a schoolgirl's. He smiled against her mouth and changed the angle, fitting his lips to hers with little sipping kisses until her own lips softened from that schoolgirl pucker and molded to his hesitantly, curiously, and so innocently that it was nearly more than he or any man could bear.

Her body softened against him, too — so much that he wondered if she might drop to the floor. He certainly wouldn't let that happen, not when he now had a good excuse to press her against the door. It was quite the reversal from when he first found himself in the closet with her. Then, she'd had him against the door, her body pressing against his back. It would have been extremely sensual... if she hadn't also been holding an old, dusty rag to his mouth.

He much preferred what was against his mouth now. He wanted to delve in, hold her tighter, press his hips against hers so she knew just how much he wanted her. But she was an innocent. He didn't want to push her beyond what she could—

"For the last time, it was a compliment!"

He tore himself from her at the shout from outside. They both stared at each other, panting. He'd nearly forgot where they were and why. He'd also forgot himself completely. Yet he couldn't seem to find any remorse or regret in him. He'd fought his attraction to her long enough, and with no success. Finally giving in was like sweet relief.

Still, he was not a complete libertine. He knew there was a cost for losing his head this way. He would apologize and pay what he must.

He only hoped he'd do a better job than Tony apparently had as, at the moment, he heard a loud clatter. It sounded like all the cues had fallen to the floor. Then there were steps scurrying away that must be Miss Marbury, as the loud groan and clatter from outside the door was definitely Tony, having had his second bad encounter of the day with billiard cues. His steps also faded away.