by Mia Marlowe
“It catches a body unawares, then. Sort of like our betrothal, aye?”
“Aye.” He didn’t correct himself this time. When in Scotland . . .
He reached up to brush her cheek with his fingertips. She leaned, catlike, into his touch. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her lashes sooty crescents on her cheekbones. Alex thumbed her mouth and her jaw went slack, the warmth of her breath spilling onto his hand.
To his surprise, he ached to kiss her with a need that almost burned. He bent his head to capture her lips, but she gave herself a little shake and broke the spell. She scooted to the farthest end of the bench. Then Lucinda slanted him a gaze that dared him to try again.
“Magical kisses, ye say. Magic is for a child’s bedtime story, Lord Bonniebroch, no’ for adults fully grown such as we.”
“Call me Alexander,” he said.
“Not His Muchness?” she asked archly.
“Not until you’ve seen if I deserve it.”
Her eyes flared and she flicked her gaze to his groin. It was as if she’d stroked him.
“A lass can make an educated guess, and it appears to me, ye’re much of a muchness,” she said coolly, as his trousers betrayed his roused state. “Remember, I’m farm raised, Alexander. I may never have been kissed, but there’s naught on a male frame as will shock me, be it on man or beast.”
This Scottish girl was a constant surprise.
“I’m gratified to hear it. But back to magical kisses.” He still needed to win this bet, so he moved next to her. “Adults need magic more than children, you know.”
“Adults fully grown,” she repeated with another wicked glance at his lap.
His body responded with a deep throb.
“All right, woman, do you want to hear it baldly? Yes, I want you. I’m fair bursting with the need to kiss you.”
“Weel, then,” she said, palming his cheeks. “Since ye put it like that . . . let’s see if there be any magic between me and ye.”
She closed the distance between them and before he knew what she was about, her lips brushed his. Alexander didn’t move as she gently explored his mouth.
He’d always avoided virgins, preferring the company of courtesans and ripe widows. Even as worldly as his other partners had been, none of them had kissed him first.
The sweetness of Lucinda’s kiss made his soft palate ache to taste her more deeply. It was time for him to show her what a real kiss was.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mia Marlowe learned much of what she knows about storytelling from singing. A classically trained soprano, Mia won the District Metropolitan Opera Auditions after graduating summa cum laude from the University of Northern Iowa. She and her family have lived in nine different states, but she now calls New England home. Learn more about Mia at www.miamarlowe.com.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2013 by Diana Groe
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-3195-6
First Electronic Edition: September 2013