Chapter Thirteen
As Nina paced back and forth in her bedchamber, she tried to convince herself that she’d only agreed to Elliot’s lesson on kissing for academic reasons. She released a pent-up breath. Who was she kidding? She wanted to know what his lessons would entail. Every time he mentioned them, little sparks of anticipation exploded in her stomach. The same sensation she experienced when a carriage took a turn too fast, or she prompted a horse over an exceedingly tall hedge. Danger and the unknown had always caused a thrill within her.
Over the years, James had called some of her actions reckless.
Her brother was right. Allowing Elliot in her bedchamber to tutor her on the art of kissing proved it.
A memory drifted in her mind. A few months ago, from her bedroom window, she’d spotted Caroline and James kissing on the terrace of their home in Essex. It hadn’t been a quick press of lips but had gone on forever. Feeling like a voyeur, she’d stepped away from the window, feeling rather hot and odd.
A soft knock on her door startled her from her thoughts.
She tugged her over-the-elbow evening gloves up higher and opened the door. Her gaze shifted from Elliot’s blue eyes to his sensual mouth, then to his clothing. Unlike her, he’d removed his evening attire and wore a casual suit and white shirt.
Without uttering a word, she motioned him inside.
He looked at her, then around the bedchamber, and grinned.
Most likely, he found humor in the fact she’d lit every lamp and candle in the room and wrapped her shawl so tight about her upper body she resembled a mummy.
“Thank God the curtains are drawn, or your bedchamber window would be a beacon for ships.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks.
Casually, he walked around the room snuffing out the candles with his thumb and index finger, never flinching as he doused each flame.
Those unsettling sparks exploded in her stomach as the light in the room dimmed. Why did watching him affect her so? Probably because Elliot possessed confidence as he prowled about her bedchamber, while she felt as taut as an over-coiled spring. Why wouldn’t she? It was natural. This was the first time she’d allowed a man into her bedchamber. Whereas, Elliot’s confidence reflected his experience.
Once only the bedside and mantel lamps remained lit, he faced her. He seemed even larger than when he’d entered the room. As if his shoulders had broadened and he’d grown several inches in the span of a few minutes. Surely, it was an illusion brought about by the weak lighting and the fact that his shadow cut across the rug to touch the spot where she stood.
“Are you cold?” His gaze narrowed on the shawl wrapped tightly about her. Without waiting for a response, he strode to the banked fire, removed the brass poker from its stand, and prodded the embers until the fire sprang back to life.
With casual grace, he took several steps, closing the distance between them. His clean, spicy scent filled her nose. Her heartbeat quickened, and she shifted on her feet like a skittish horse.
“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t bite you. Not unless you beg me to.” He grinned.
“You know you are incorrigible.” She should ask him to leave, yet she felt anchored to where she stood. Her gaze shifted from Elliot’s eyes to his mouth, and she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to feel the press of his lips against hers.
“What should I teach you first?”
Everything.
One side of his mouth turned up as if she’d said the single word aloud. But she hadn’t. At times, Elliot appeared capable of reading her thoughts. It had always irritated her, but in this moment in time, she wished he could read every wicked thought in her silly head, so she wouldn’t have to voice them aloud.
His warm fingers brushed against her arms as he unwrapped the shawl from her shoulders and draped it over the back of an upholstered chair.
“I don’t think you need these either,” he said, unfastening the three buttons at the wrist of her left evening glove, then those on the right. The material parted, and he skimmed his thumb over the sensitive skin of her left inner wrist.
The hairs on her nape lifted.
“Now take them off. Slowly.”
“Slowly. Why?”
“Because the removal of a woman’s evening gloves is sensual if done correctly.”
Perhaps she did need lessons. How was removing her gloves sensual? “I don’t understand.”
Without responding, he lifted her hand as if he intended to kiss her gloved fingers.
When his teeth nipped the end of the material at her index finger and tugged, she sucked in a startled breath. He did the same to each finger until her glove dangled off her hand. He slowly tugged it off and let it drop to the rug.
He held her gaze. “Undressing a woman can heighten her anticipation. Undressing for a man can heighten his.”
“But I don’t intend to undress in front of the Duke of Fernbridge.”
“No, but if you are to catch his attention further, your actions must draw his regard. As I said, if done correctly, something as simple as removing an evening glove before dinner can center a man’s attention solely on you.”
She felt self-conscious, but inch by inch, she rolled her other glove down her arm. Her fingers lightly, sensually traced over her skin as she revealed more of it.
As if riveted, Elliot watched. His eyes grew heavy. Was he becoming as aroused as she was? She couldn’t help but ask. “Am I a good student, Elliot?”
“I’ll let you know after we complete our lessons.”
She removed the glove completely and held it between her index finger and thumb before letting it drop to the floor. She’d believed Elliot would smile, but the look in his eyes was so intense she thought it was melting her because wetness settled between her legs.
He set his finger under her chin and brought her gaze to his. “Now, have you ever kissed a man?”
“You know I have.”
“Yes, but there are different types of kisses. There is the type you give a family member. Then there is nothing more than a light brushing of the lips, and then there are kisses that make you want to act recklessly. What type of kisses did Avalon give you?”
She glanced down at the hem of her gown and the Turkish rug beneath where she stood. Avalon’s kisses had seemed more like the first type. They’d definitely not made her act reckless. Or even made her contemplate acting recklessly.
Without further thought, she got on the tip of her toes and gave Elliot a quick peck on the cheek. “They were like that.”
“Well, thank goodness you didn’t wed the man. That’s utterly shameful. Avalon should be shot.”
Elliot looked so agitated, a laugh bubbled up Nina’s throat, but when he skimmed the tips of his fingers up her arm, her laugh faded, and heat coursed through her body.
“A proper kiss should entail more than a quick press of the lips on one’s cheek.”
“How do I let a man know I wish to be kissed on the lips?”
“There are several signals. The way you look at him. You should hold his gaze but allow your regard to dip to his mouth before returning them to his eyes. If he leans in, tip your face up, and when positive he intends to kiss you, close your eyes.”
She nodded and took a slow breath to calm her nerves. She slowly let her gaze shift from the deep blue of Elliot’s eyes to his mouth, then back to his eyes.
“Well done.” One of his large hands cupped the side of her cheek. The other wrapped around her waist.
The tempo of her heart spiked. Not from fear. No, she wanted to experience this. Worse, she wanted to experience it with Elliot. That knowledge caused her to tense.
“Relax. I assure you this won’t hurt. Not a bit.” He smiled.
She smacked his shoulder. “Get on with it, you scoundrel.”
“I intend to.”
His softly spoken words and the look in his eyes caused her stomach to flutter. “Where do I put my hands?” she asked.
A slow smile turned up his lips. “I don’t believe most men are too particular during a kiss. They’ll be content with your hands on them almost anywhere.”
* * *
Elliot stared into Nina’s eyes as she slowly slid her palms upward over his chest.
“So this is fine?” she asked, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.
“Yes.” Elliot heard the raspy texture of his voice and wondered if she noticed it, or that he was a bit more excited than he should be. For God’s sake, it was only the prelude to a kiss, but someone needed to tell his cock that.
She stepped closer, looking as if the surface of his chest fascinated her. She flexed her fingers. “Will moving my hands like this get the Duke of Fernbridge’s attention, should he decide to kiss me?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. He’d come to her room, hoping to disperse any thoughts of Fernbridge from her head. Yet, she still asked about the man. The idea of Fernbridge kissing Nina while she touched the man caused a fire in Elliot’s gut. Perhaps he shouldn’t be tutoring her in the way to please a man. Perhaps he should be teaching her to give sloppy-wet kisses that would turn Fernbridge off. Perhaps he should tell her to keep her hands at her sides and stare at his forehead.
“Where will he put his hands?” she asked.
His gaze shifted to the plump surface of her mouth. “If he’s smart, he’ll have his hand on your cheek, as I do, and when he lowers his mouth to yours, he’ll slip it to your nape and hold your mouth close to his.”
“And his other hand?”
In response to her question, he moved it to the small of her back and pulled her body tighter to his.
Her breathing, like his, had kicked up a notch. Elliot stared into her eyes.
Nina moistened her lips.
His gaze followed the movement, and Elliot lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly—brushed his lips against hers—determined that piquing her curiosity about the third type of kiss would be best saved for another time.
“Mmm.” Her mouth moved against his.
The little sound of pleasure that eased between her lips and the way her sweet mouth answered his, sent a jolt of lust through Elliot’s body. Startled, by how much he wanted to coax her mouth open and tangle his tongue with hers, he gave the plump surface of her lower lip a gentle tug and stepped back.
Her lashes fluttered open. “So, how did I do?”
The kiss, though rather pedestrian by his standards, had left him a bit unsettled. He smoothed out his expression. “You could use a bit more practice.”
“You’re insufferable. I can tell by the look in your eyes I did quite well. When I opened my eyes, you looked stunned. So, unless I’ve grown an enormous wart on my face, I believe I surpassed your expectations.”
She had. While he’d kissed her, he felt the passion within her. She was so wrong for Fernbridge.
She set her hands on her hips. “Well, what do you have to say to that?”
He wasn’t going to say anything. No. Instead, he pulled her tighter—felt the soft flesh of her breasts flatten against his chest. “Perhaps we should move on to the third type of kiss.”