Mia Marlowe by Plaid Tidings

expression grew as strained as if he were wrestling Aileen’s big trunk down the staircase again. “You’ve no idea what you’re asking.”
    He stepped back a pace and Lucinda’s belly curdled in disappointment.
    “Never mind, then. Surely there’ll be a man at Dalkeith who’ll be happy to fill in the gaps in my learning. After all, I do have three kisses to dispense and I’ll warrant more than lips may be involved and—”
    Alexander pulled her roughly to him, covering her mouth with his in a possessive kiss. He cupped her bum and lifted her a bit so she could feel the feverishness of him through the thin muslin of her gown, the length and the hardness of him pressed against the apex of her thighs.
    His smell, that disturbing, warm masculine scent—all leather and fresh air and horseflesh—was everywhere. Something dark and delicious fluttered to life in her belly.
    His hands flicked over her, sending sparks of pleasure trailing after them. Up and down her spine, then around to trail under her breasts. Her nipples ached and she arched herself into him.
    He rocked against her and she rocked back, luxuriating in the flood of warmth pooling between her legs.
    Alexander straightened and looked down at her, a smile slowly spreading over his face. Then the smile faded and his gray eyes warmed to the color of burnished pewter. He bent and claimed her mouth again.
    She didn’t protest. He covered her lips with his for a moment. Then he slanted his mouth across hers, tasting her, teasing her lips open. His tongue toyed with her and she made a little noise of impatience.
    Then he took her hand and guided it between their bodies, laying her palm over his groin and pressing it against the hard bulge.
    He wants me to feel just how Much of a Muchness he is.
    Lucinda was equal parts shocked and intrigued. There was something vulnerable about the way he invited her to explore him. She ran an experimental hand over his length and he groaned into her mouth. When she gave him a squeeze, he thrust his tongue between her lips as if showing her how he’d like to thrust that other part of him into another place in her. He was long and thick and she ached to feel him without the layers of his trousers and undergarments between them.
    “Lucinda!” Her great-aunt’s voice sing-songed down the hallway and into the kitchen. “Dinna make me wait for me rum, girl!”
    Alexander stopped kissing her and buried his nose in her hair. He drew a deep breath as if he might inhale her all the way down to his toes. She gave him one last stroke as he stepped back.
    “Lucinda, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
    She pressed a finger to his lips. “We’re betrothed, Alex. ’Tis only a matter of a few days and the bit of naughtiness we’re about now will be Church-sanctioned naughtiness then.”
    A dark shadow seemed to pass over his face at that.
    He still doesna want me. Not really.
    The realization struck her with the force of a blow, but Lucinda swallowed back her hurt. However much her chest ached at the thought that Alexander still felt trapped by their betrothal, she still needed to make the match work. For the sake of her family’s future. For her brother, Dougal, on the wrong side of the law. For too many reasons to count.
    Not the least of which was the way Alexander Mallory twisted her pantalets.
    It was early days yet, she decided with dogged determination. She’d make him love her, one way or another. Jealousy might be a way to goad him down the road. And he was the one who brought up their wager and the three kisses she was due before their Christmas Day wedding.
    “Thank ye kindly, Alexander, for that little dollop of education,” she said with what she hoped was a winsome smile. “Ye’ve given me ever so many interesting things to compare when I start kissing other men.”

“As a general rule, a lady should never attempt to make a gentleman jealous. It is deceitful, manipulative, and unworthy of a gentlewoman’s