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Drawn by an inexplicable pull, as though she held power over him, he crossed the room and cupped her warm cheek.
She gasped. In surprise or encouragement, he couldn’t tell.
“I’m here to—” she whispered, but he didn’t let her finish.
He knew why she was here.
He lowered his head and kissed her.
* * *
“I’m here to convey a message from your household,” Honoria was going to say.
She repeated the phrase several times while making her way to the mysterious room Caldwell had entered. She was going to tell him there was an urgent matter and that he needed to return home immediately.
Instead, the brute kissed her. Her.
His housekeeper.
The woman he barely acknowledged during their daily briefings. The woman who had loved him in silence for years and dreamed of being kissed by him every single day.
Of course, he had no way of knowing any of that. He thought she was a harlot.
Honoria froze in his arms, her body going rigid.
He paused and pulled away, ever the gentleman.
“Is this wrong?” he murmured against her lips.
“No,” she breathed, the word escaping before she could think better of it.
Of course, it was wrong. She was his housekeeper.
But in that moment, with his warmth surrounding her, his scent of leather and bergamot and something uniquely him filling her senses, she couldn’t bear to end it.
So, she whispered, “It’s right.”
Then she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him again.
Her arms wound around his neck, her body pressed to his as if drawn by some irresistible force. His hands roamed her back and waist, leaving fire trails in their wake.
She moaned, pressing closer, her tongue slipping into his mouth. He grunted his approval, his tongue meeting hers—tentative at first, then bolder, more confident. His lips left hers to trace a path along her jaw, down the column of her throat, and Honoria couldn’t suppress a soft moan.
The sound seemed to inflame him further. His arms tightened around her, drawing her impossibly closer, his mouth moving lower, to the tops of her breasts, his tongue scorching a trail down her skin.
She should have stopped him. Delivered her message and slipped away into the night. But it felt so—so good.
And who did it hurt? He wanted this too.
It seemed he didn’t care who he was kissing.
While she… Well, she had wanted this for three long years. And now that it was finally happening, she was going to savor every moment.
In an hour, she’d be gone from his life. Forever.
But right now, she could have this one perfect moment. A sweet memory to carry with her.
“You’re trembling,” he whispered against her skin.