Amused and fascinated, he watched her struggle to compose herself.
He preferred her pink-cheeked and flustered.
She drew in a ragged breath. “We cannot discuss this again. Please. It may have been lovely for one moment and done rather well, but . . .” She stopped and started again as if she had lost the thread of her thought. “The point of the matter is, it was a mistake, and one we both need to forget.”
The finality of her words irked him. He did not like being dismissed like the forgotten boy he had once been. “You are absolutely right.” He unfolded his arms and stepped closer, crowding her. She regarded him warily, but held her ground. He caught her upper arms and drew her to him, ignoring the alarm swimming in those luminous blue depths. “We are done talking. I think a demonstration is in order. You see, you keep saying our kiss was a mistake.”
“Yes, it was—”
“My dear Julia.” His eyes roved over her features, admiring the perfect symmetry and soft, flushed skin. “There is something you should know about me.” He cradled her cheek, lowered his head, his mouth inches from hers. “I am a man who likes to correct his mistakes.” When her lips parted in surprise, he captured them in a deep kiss. He kissed her as he had dreamed of doing again since yesterday afternoon.
She tasted better than he remembered, his memory a pale comparison to the reality of holding her warm, supple body flush to his. His arms circled her, one hand sliding up the curve of her back and pressing her closer and still closer, the flowers she held crushed between them.
Desire roared through him as he kissed her deeply, thoroughly. Her lips were full and soft. He tasted honey, apple, and cinnamon, the remnants from a tart she had eaten earlier. The taste was bold and sweet, capturing the essence of her. He delved deeper, his tongue dancing with hers as he drank her in. She was fire and passion, and for one fleeting moment, he could pretend she was his.
He lifted his head and stared into her heavy-lidded, glazed eyes. “You might have been right about yesterday being a mistake. I am glad we corrected it, for this was much better.”
“Excuse me?” Julia moistened her swollen lips and blinked up at him, her expression dazed.
“If you do not agree, we could always try again.” He dropped his eyes to her lips.
“No!” She came alive, shoving him away and swatting at him with the squashed bouquet. Sweeping her gaze around the secluded pathway, she tugged down the waist of her jacket, and held out a hand to hold him at bay. “Don’t! Please Lord Bryant, this has to stop. You are not allowed to kiss me, it is—”
“I know, exciting—”
“And wrong,” she gasped, stumbling back.
He frowned. “I thought we got it right that time. You still disagree? Perhaps we should try again.”
“No!” She planted her hands on his chest, the flowers slapping his chin. “We cannot—” Suddenly she quieted and paled. Breaking away, she glanced around the area. “I . . . I thought I saw someone.”
Too late, the familiar prickle climbed his neck. Immediately alert, he searched the area, but found no one. “Let us continue this in a more public venue.” Catching her arm, he cast another glance around as he escorted her from the secluded path and onto the festival’s busy thoroughfare.
The bustle and cries of vendors and patrons would cover their conversation, but it could not drown out his unease. He cursed his lapse in a vigilance he usually wore like a second skin when in Edmund’s territory. He blamed Julia for distracting him. He had known she was dangerous, now he knew just how much.
“We will not be continuing anything.” She tugged free, her blue eyes flashing, her lips swollen, and her color high.
She looked magnificent.
“This is over.” She drew herself up, and with an unsteady hand, she swiped back the stray curls tumbling over her forehead. “Should you kiss me again, you will have Edmund to deal with. Then you will truly understand the meaning of the word dangerous.” She spun on her heel, momentarily stumbled, but righted herself before he could assist her.
She looked just as magnificent from the back.
But she was wrong. He was well versed in danger. When Lakeview Manor had been set ablaze and he nearly lost his life, he had learned the true meaning of it. His brother had also introduced him to dark shades of it years earlier. Daniel would be damned if he let his brother teach it to Julia. He tipped his face to the sky, and blew out a frustrated breath.
He did not think it possible to hate his brother more than he already did.
Kissing Julia a second time taught him otherwise.
Chapter Five