A Matter of Sin by Jess Michaels Page A

Lord Northfield were going on and on about it. I assumed that meant you missed it.”
    He didn’t speak, but stared down at first the book and then toward her. She smiled. Good. She had shocked him by admitting what he was so ruthlessly teasing her about.
    “Oh,” he finally said after what seemed like eternity had passed with nothing but stunned silence between them.
    She shrugged, starting to enjoy her own brand of torture just as much as he had apparently enjoyed his earlier. “It is the talk of the ton , my lord. I had to know what all the fuss was about.”
    Once again, he was silent. In fact, his only response to her statement was to set the book back down on the table where she had retrieved it. His eyes never left her, his gaze never lost any focus.
    And the triumph Isabel had felt in shocking him began to fade. He seemed so stunned now that she was beginning to doubt herself. Perhaps he hadn’t believed her to be the culprit after all. Perhaps he was not shocked by her boldness, but by her inappropriateness.
    If that was true, she might have just made the biggest mistake of her life. And Serena’s.
    She swallowed. “I-I hope you will not judge my sister poorly because of my outrageous behavior, Lord Lyndham.”
    This time she was certain he moved closer. His chest nearly touched hers and heat radiated from him, washing over her.
    “My lady,” he whispered, his voice even rougher now that it was soft. “I assure you, the last thing I was thinking about in this moment was your sister.”
    Isabel gasped at the implication of those words and realized that the sharp intake of breath was the first one she had taken in quite some time. Her hands and knees began to shake.
    This situation was spiraling out of control, and she had to exit from it immediately.
    “I-I should—”
    She stepped back, but he caught her wrist and held her where she stood. “Wait…wait… Why did you take the book? It was something more than just mere curiosity, wasn’t it?”
    Isabel turned her face. To her surprise, humiliation did not return, but the heat in her cheeks did. She couldn’t tell this man, this near stranger, that !
    “I don’t know,” she said, tugging on her wrist to free herself.
    He let her go immediately, but stepped in her way so that she couldn’t flee the room. “You must know.”
    She wanted to look up at him, but feared that doing so would allow him to see everything she was fighting so hard to hide. Her longing. Her loneliness. Her desires.
    So she didn’t look at him as she whispered, “My lord, please —”
    “Isabel,” he murmured.
    Her eyes lifted in surprise. The previous night she thought he might have used her given name, but there was no denying it this time. And she loved hearing it roll from his tongue. He said it like he was savoring a sweet treat, like it was a precious word.
    She stared at him as he stared through her, into her very soul. She didn’t want to tell him her secret, she didn’t want to say why she had taken the naughty book, but something compelled her to reveal herself. There was some odd, intense connection between them despite their utter inappropriateness for each other.
    “I-I took it because it has been a long time and I—” She heard her voice making the terrible confession and she cut herself off and dipped her chin down in embarrassment.
    Suddenly she felt the rough slide of his fingers on her skin as he cupped her chin and urged her to look back up at him. Urged her to meet his gaze, which seemed so intense and yet so gentle and nonjudgmental now.
    “Tell me,” he insisted.
    She sucked in a sobbing breath. “I wanted to remember desire and pleasure and—”
    She had more to say, more depths of her soul to mine, but he didn’t allow it. Without preamble, he bent his head and suddenly his mouth was on hers.
    For the first few seconds of the unexpected kiss, Isabel was too surprised to react. Her mind raced, overwhelmed by questions and denials and fears