His plan called for teaching her that teasing a gentleman the way she had him could ricochet. And now he was the one suffering from the backlash. What was she doing to him?
Was Steyne Hall enchanted, disordering the wits of all who resided within? How could he feel so possessive of a girl he hardly knew? And how could he desire an innocent the way he did her?
Now he was holding her within his arms. It broke all the rules of propriety but somehow it didn't feel wrong. Her response told him Thea was an innocent, a child in a woman's body. That odd mixture of purity and passion gave his desire an additional edge, a need to protect her. She was sweet, so sweet.
Hart broke the kiss, not because he wanted to but because honor required it.
"You're not stopping, my lord?" Thea slowly opened her eyes and he noticed her pupils were widely dilated and her lips swollen.
"Oh, Thea." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you really wish for more?"
Wicked green eyes glinted at him and then retreated behind closed lids. "Yes, please, my lord," she replied and raised her face to him.
"Do you not feel that it is time to drop the 'my lord's'?"
"Then shall I call you by your full title, my lord?" Thea's lashes flew open and she pressed her mouth to his.
"You cat," he whispered with a gurgle. "You will call me Hart."
"Yes, Hart." She sighed his name and he could withstand no more. She'd done it to him again. Groaning, he caught her lips to his. It took all of his willpower to gentle the kiss and pull away.
She murmured, "The music has stopped."
"Um, yes." Hart stood looking into her eyes, then shook his head from side to side. "No, I hear it yet." He kissed her once more, then hoping to reach safety, he hurried her back into the music room.
It was empty.
Chapter Five
"Thea." That settled it. The empty room spoke volumes. The guests had all departed and she was well and truly compromised. Hart tugged her back into his arms.
Being in his arms was comforting but Thea knew she'd have to say it. Aware her plan had misfired, she could sense he was about to speak of marriage and she would not marry him, a man who did not love her. "You must not speak to Papa."
Through gritted teeth he asked, "Thea, why must I not speak with your father?"
"I—I enjoyed our kiss, but..."
"But?" He prompted her.
"It was just a kiss."
"Just a kiss? It was not just a kiss. In fact, I must state emphatically, it was not just a kiss." Hartingfield's face took on a mulish expression. "In any case, if I deem it appropriate to speak with your father, then I will do so."
"You are making this quite difficult, Hart." Thea stepped out of his embrace. Her plan had gone completely awry. "I must be honest with you. I hoped to give you a distaste for me. I was being wanton."
"No, you weren't."
"I mean, I was attempting to be wanton."
He gave her a distracted look. "You were being...wanton?"
"Yes." Thea stood her ground.
Lord Hartingfield looked deeply into her eyes. His face hardened. "To trap me into marriage," he finally replied.
"To make you wish not to marry me."
Completely stunned, Hart felt his mouth drop. Considering the legions of young ladies and their mamas who had tried to ensnare him, it never occurred to him that any woman, Thea included, would desire otherwise. Insensibly, it struck him that her kisses, those glorious kisses might have been an act?
It took all of his considerable self-control to keep his hands from encircling Thea's swanlike neck and squeezing. He reached for her to jolt her into sensibility. Instead, the intended shake metamorphosed into another gentle kiss. "It wasn't totally an act, was it, Thea?"
"No," she gasped.
"There is magic between us. Would it be so unbearable to marry me? You must feel the magic, the rightness as well as I," he coaxed. Then he froze. He could not believe those words had left his mouth. What was he saying? It occurred to him that while he'd had no intention of marrying her, it was of utmost
Was Steyne Hall enchanted, disordering the wits of all who resided within? How could he feel so possessive of a girl he hardly knew? And how could he desire an innocent the way he did her?
Now he was holding her within his arms. It broke all the rules of propriety but somehow it didn't feel wrong. Her response told him Thea was an innocent, a child in a woman's body. That odd mixture of purity and passion gave his desire an additional edge, a need to protect her. She was sweet, so sweet.
Hart broke the kiss, not because he wanted to but because honor required it.
"You're not stopping, my lord?" Thea slowly opened her eyes and he noticed her pupils were widely dilated and her lips swollen.
"Oh, Thea." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you really wish for more?"
Wicked green eyes glinted at him and then retreated behind closed lids. "Yes, please, my lord," she replied and raised her face to him.
"Do you not feel that it is time to drop the 'my lord's'?"
"Then shall I call you by your full title, my lord?" Thea's lashes flew open and she pressed her mouth to his.
"You cat," he whispered with a gurgle. "You will call me Hart."
"Yes, Hart." She sighed his name and he could withstand no more. She'd done it to him again. Groaning, he caught her lips to his. It took all of his willpower to gentle the kiss and pull away.
She murmured, "The music has stopped."
"Um, yes." Hart stood looking into her eyes, then shook his head from side to side. "No, I hear it yet." He kissed her once more, then hoping to reach safety, he hurried her back into the music room.
It was empty.
Chapter Five
"Thea." That settled it. The empty room spoke volumes. The guests had all departed and she was well and truly compromised. Hart tugged her back into his arms.
Being in his arms was comforting but Thea knew she'd have to say it. Aware her plan had misfired, she could sense he was about to speak of marriage and she would not marry him, a man who did not love her. "You must not speak to Papa."
Through gritted teeth he asked, "Thea, why must I not speak with your father?"
"I—I enjoyed our kiss, but..."
"But?" He prompted her.
"It was just a kiss."
"Just a kiss? It was not just a kiss. In fact, I must state emphatically, it was not just a kiss." Hartingfield's face took on a mulish expression. "In any case, if I deem it appropriate to speak with your father, then I will do so."
"You are making this quite difficult, Hart." Thea stepped out of his embrace. Her plan had gone completely awry. "I must be honest with you. I hoped to give you a distaste for me. I was being wanton."
"No, you weren't."
"I mean, I was attempting to be wanton."
He gave her a distracted look. "You were being...wanton?"
"Yes." Thea stood her ground.
Lord Hartingfield looked deeply into her eyes. His face hardened. "To trap me into marriage," he finally replied.
"To make you wish not to marry me."
Completely stunned, Hart felt his mouth drop. Considering the legions of young ladies and their mamas who had tried to ensnare him, it never occurred to him that any woman, Thea included, would desire otherwise. Insensibly, it struck him that her kisses, those glorious kisses might have been an act?
It took all of his considerable self-control to keep his hands from encircling Thea's swanlike neck and squeezing. He reached for her to jolt her into sensibility. Instead, the intended shake metamorphosed into another gentle kiss. "It wasn't totally an act, was it, Thea?"
"No," she gasped.
"There is magic between us. Would it be so unbearable to marry me? You must feel the magic, the rightness as well as I," he coaxed. Then he froze. He could not believe those words had left his mouth. What was he saying? It occurred to him that while he'd had no intention of marrying her, it was of utmost
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