Something dark and heated flickered in his eyes, and she thrilled at gaining the upper hand. Hiding her own quaking she leaned toward him as far as his restraining hands would allow.
She purred huskily, “Surely the notorious Robert Carlisle knows what to do with a woman who wants to kiss him.”
Despite gritting his teeth, his gaze fell longingly to her mouth, and for a moment, she thought he might just kiss her senseless again. And if he did, she wasn’t certain that she could withstand it this time without falling completely apart in his arms.
“Don’t tease me, Mariah,” he warned in a murmur. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Am I?” Pretending that he hadn’t affected her, even as that tingling heat still throbbed achingly, she sadly shook her head. “Well, I certainly hope the other gentlemen I’ll meet this season are better at this than you.”
She slipped away before he could reach for her again. Or she for him. “Or I’ll be too bored to consider marrying any of them.”
He stared at her coolly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You will be married by season’s end, I promise you.”
He took her arm and pulled her toward the door. He flung it open and led her into the hall so quickly that she struggled to keep up with his determined strides. Anger radiated from him as he led her out to the carriage waiting in the street.
He placed her inside the carriage. But when she yanked her arm away, it wasn’t relief she felt but an inexplicable sense of loss. For one maddening moment, she wanted to blurt out an apology, to beg him to crawl inside the compartment with her and keep kissing her just as he’d done before, all the way home to her doorstep.
But the devil inside her couldn’t help one last parting jab, and she sniffed with mock disappointment, “If I’m going to be forced to give my first waltz to such a boorish man, I certainly hope you’re far better at dancing.”
He rose up onto the step and leaned inside, bringing himself close. “Don’t
you worry, minx,” he assured her in a husky voice that twined down her spine. “When it comes to having a woman in my arms, I do everything well.”
Her breath strangled in her throat. Leaving her to gape at him in stunned mortification at her own heated reaction to the beastliness in him, he closed the door, then ordered the coachman to drive off.
The carriage rolled forward, and she slumped against the squabs. A curse left her lips at him, followed immediately by several more at herself.
They’d fought their second battle, yet for the life of her she couldn’t have said which of them had emerged the victor.
Also by Anna Harrington
The Secret Life of Scoundrels Series
Dukes Are Forever
Along Came a Rogue
How I Married a Marquess
Once a Scoundrel
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Capturing the Carlisles Series
If the Duke Demands
When the Scoundrel Sins
As the Devil Dares
How the Earl Entices
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Standalone Titles
Say Yes to the Scot
A Match Made in Heather
No Dukes Allowed
About the Author
I fell in love with historical romances and all things Regency—and especially all those dashing Regency heroes—while living in England, where I spent most of my time studying the Romantic poets, reading Jane Austen, and getting lost all over the English countryside. I love the period’s rich history and find that all those rules of etiquette and propriety can be worked to the heroine’s advantage…if she’s daring enough to seize her dreams.
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I am an avid traveler and have enjoyed visiting schools and volunteering with children's organizations in Peru, Ecuador, Thailand, and Mexico, and I have amassed thousands of photos I unleash on unsuspecting friends who dare to ask about my travels.
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I love to be outdoors! I've been hiking in Alaska, the Andes, and the Alps, and I love whitewater rafting (when I don't fall in!). I earned my pilot’s license at Chicago Midway (To all the controllers in Chicago Center—I greatly apologize for every problem I caused for you and Southwest Airlines), and it is my dream to one-day fly in a hot-air balloon over Africa.
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I adore all things chocolate, ice cream of any flavor, and Kona coffee by the gallon. A Doctor Who fanatic (everyone says my house is bigger on the inside), I am a terrible cook who hopes to one day use my oven for something other than shoe storage. When I'm not writing, I like to spend my time trying not to kill the innocent rose bushes in my garden.
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https://www.annaharringtonbooks.com/
After the Spy Seduces Page 29
