GRIFFIN HAD kissed Rachael in his study. He'd kissed her across his study. He'd kissed her as he'd eased her down to a long leather sofa, and now, a good thirty minutes later, he was lying half on top of her, still kissing her.
She'd been kissed before, but not by anyone who kissed anything like Griffin. He put his entire heart and soul into a kiss. When Griffin was kissing her, she was wholly convinced his mind was on nothing but that. On nothing but her. Which made it difficult to think about anything but him, either.
In fact, he made it difficult to think at all.
His kisses went from sweet to warm to burning and back again. From gentle to deep, from rushed to unhurried to frantic. Her senses were reeling, and her mouth seemed filled with the taste of him—hot male and brandy. Her blood seemed filled with him, too, coursing through her veins and beating a seductive rhythm in her ears.
When he finally drew away, when he struggled to his elbows and gazed down at her, she still found it hard to think. His eyes were so very intense, his dazed smile a little crooked, looking delicious. Placing a hand behind his neck, she pulled his mouth back down to hers and kissed him again.
A long while later he drew away once more, and her head finally cleared.
A little.
"You're not my cousin," she murmured.
"I know."
"That means we can marry."
He was off of her like a shot. "Oh, no."
"Oh, no?" Shoving herself to a sitting position, she decided she'd probably shocked herself as much as him by saying that. But it was true.
She wanted to marry Griffin.
She loved him.
She wasn't sure when she'd fallen in love, because she'd never admitted that to herself before—she hadn't been able to, having never overcome thinking of him as a cousin. But she knew she could lean on Griffin; she knew she could depend on him. He'd always be there for her—he'd shown her that, hadn't he? And wasn't that the most important quality for a husband?
And it didn't hurt that he was so handsome he made her breath catch. So tall and lean, so virile and masculine, so well built. His eyes such a pure leaf green, his jaw so strong and square, that slightly crooked smile so engaging.
"Oh, yes," she said, "I want to marry you."
"You don't want to marry me," he returned flatly, a hint of panic in those green eyes. "You think I'm an irresponsible scapegrace."
"Not anymore." Or not exactly. Yes, he said stupid things, and he did stupid things sometimes, too. He had his flaws. But what man didn't? At least she knew Griffin's flaws—she knew what she was getting into with him.
And she'd never felt that powerful force of attraction with any man but Griffin.
She loved him just as he was, flaws and all.
"I do want to marry you," she disagreed, "and, really, how can you refuse me? You've been kissing me for half an hour."
He shifted on his feet, glancing away from her. "They were only kisses, Rachael. And you invited them. You cannot expect a man to turn down an offer like that."
He hadn't kissed her only because she'd invited him. She might be a bloody idiot for not realizing there was no reason she couldn't marry him, but she wasn't so bird-witted she didn't know when a man wanted her.
Griffin had been wanting her for two years, at the very least. A man didn't look at a woman the way he looked at her—or kiss her the way he just had—unless he wanted her. And he loved her, too. She was sure of it. Look at all the trouble he'd gone to in order to find her family. A man didn't go to such trouble for a woman he didn't love.
She couldn't let him get away with saying the time they'd just spent in each other's arms had been only kisses. "Are you telling me all those kisses meant nothing?"
He looked back to her. "That's what I just said, isn't it?"
Oh, that had come too easily. She'd asked the wrong question. "You didn't enjoy them, then? Not at all?"
He hadn't an answer for that, which didn't surprise her. He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't enjoyed himself.
"Tell me, Griffin," she drawled, rather amused by his increasing discomfort, "would you approve of a man kissing Corinna for half an hour if he had no intention of marrying her?"
He couldn't say that without lying, either, of course. To his credit, he didn't. "No, I wouldn't approve. But she's my sister."
"Well, I think I deserve the same respect as your sister." Rising from the sofa, she reached for her reticule. "So unless you change your mind and declare your intentions, I trust you won't ever kiss me again."
Her lips still felt tender from tonight's kisses, and she wanted more. But she wasn't worried she wouldn't get them. Another of Griffin's flaws was resisting change, but he'd come around eventually.
She figured he'd be kissing her inside of a week.
He jumped to avoid her as she headed for the door. Reaching it, she placed her hand on the knob and glanced over her shoulder. "Will you be attending Lady Hammersmithe's ball tomorrow night?"
"I'm planning to bring Corinna."
Deliberately she licked her lips, watching for a reaction, hiding a smile when she saw that reaction in his eyes. "I'll see you there, then," she practically purred as she opened the door and waltzed out.