Too Scandalous to Wed by Alexandra Benedict Page A

now, give her reason to believe he cared for her in an unbrotherly fashion. It would only break her heart to learn the truth. He was determined not to devastate her.
    “But you and I are friends,” she said next, eyes slanted in demure innocence. “And it wouldn’t do a’tall if I kissed you on the lips.”
    Sebastian heard the breath rush through his teeth. Rampant relief filled him. Thank heavens the girl had good sense! For he had not the fortitude to resist a pair of plump pink lips, dusted with the scent of jasmine. He was sure about that.
    “Instead, Ravenswood, I will kiss you where you’ve never been kissed before.”
    His breath hitched.
    So much for the girl’s good sense.
    It could not be stopped, the fire burning in his belly at her wanton proposal. The rogue within him took an instant liking to the proposition, the more reasonable part of him tossed to the wayside.
    Sebastian could do naught but stare, mesmerized, as she reached for his hand.
    He bristled, grasping for his wits, about to pull away, when a jarring voice inside him cried: Deviltake it, Seb, let her show you where you’ve never been kissed before!
    And upon that blasted reproof, all thoughts of propriety were stomped asunder.
    Slowly Henrietta lifted his hand to her lips. Ever gently, she pulled back the cuff of his sleeve, the fabric scraping over his skin, making him shudder.
    Mischief twinkled in her bright brown eyes, and she whispered, “I shall kiss you right…here.”
    Sebastian closed his eyes, the rogue within him groaning in feral satisfaction.
    Warm, wet lips kissed, then sucked at his wrist, the rhythmic movement of her mouth reminding him of other sensual pleasures.
    “Henry,” he breathed hoarsely, trembling under her salacious ministrations.
    It was an entreaty, her name. A plea to break away from him, for he had not the power to do it himself. And unless the girl abandoned him this instant, she was going to find herself up against the wall—
    Sebastian was startled by the sudden surcease. Limbs throbbing in repressed ecstasy, he struggled to regain control of his mind, his breath, his very soul.
    “There now,” she whispered warmly, eyes bright with sensuality. “We’ve not broken with tradition.” She smiled. “Good night, Ravenswood.”
    She sauntered into the darkness of the corridor, leaving him stranded under the mistletoe in abject chaos, for not only had he broken with tradition by allowing the girl to kiss him, but he’d done the one thing he’d vowed never to do: call her by her nickname.

Chapter 9
    H enrietta burst into her bedchamber.
    Heart still throbbing in her throat, she closed the door and sprinted toward the bed. She buried her face in her pillow and let out a squeal of delight. A bit more composed, she sat up and sighed. But the giddiness inside her refused to be tamped, and she giggled again.
    He had called her Henry! It was the sweetest sound she had ever heard, that guttural whisper. Every fine hair on her body had spiked to shivering attention when he’d said her nickname.
    And she had kissed him! Not on the lips, but still, she had tasted the heady musk of his skin for the first time—and was utterly intoxicated.
    Letting out another dreamy sigh, Henrietta flopped back onto her pillow. Her plan was working splendidly. And at a clipped pace. She could not afford to slow down. She could not give Sebastiana chance to reflect and realize that something was amiss; that he should leave the house at once.
    But she didn’t want to move too fast, either, or she might make the man balk and run anyway. It was such a tricky balance to keep.
    Yet she needed to be bolder if she wanted to seduce the viscount. She had worked on her friendship with Sebastian, but now she needed to nurture the other part of their relationship, too. She needed to become his lover.
    Heart ticking in enthusiasm, Henrietta reached under her pillow and yanked out a black, leather-bound volume: a parting gift from Madam