Mabel had fantasized a time or two about what it might be like if Drew kissed her. How could she not, when they’d written letters back and forth for years? Occasionally she’d thought she sensed affection in his concise prose that went beyond friendship. He never ran on or became poetic, but she could read the excitement in his discoveries and his eagerness to share them with someone who cared. Once in a while, when he asked after her or mentioned missing home, she’d imagined herself sparking that same sort of excitement. And then she’d imagined kissing him.
Her imagination, apparently, was lacking.
A little tilt of the head was all it had taken. A tiny lift of her chin, and then his mouth had crashed down on hers, driving away the cold and the dark and the rest of the world and leaving only this sensation of craving and being craved in return.
His lips sipped at hers, savoring every part, from the plump middle to the corners and then back again. When his tongue darted out, Mabel didn’t hesitate to open for him. She had five married sisters. She knew what proper kissing entailed.
Oh. Her little gasp was smothered beneath his questing mouth. No wonder he had done so well in his career. Andrew Holbrooke knew how to explore.
His hands burrowed beneath the jacket draped around her, stroking up and down her back in slow, but deliberate caresses that matched the movements of his tongue and lips. He left nothing undiscovered, his every motion methodical and adoring. Eager, but unwilling to miss any part of what she offered.
Mabel felt his hunger in the tension of his muscles under her hands, in the insistent press of his lips. When her own tongue slicked across his, he pressed deeper, tightening his embrace and angling his mouth to give them both better access.
He devoured her, fully, completely, leaving no part of her untouched by his desire. Tingles flew up and down her skin. Delicious yearning blossomed deep beneath her clothing. She burned for him, the heat of the embrace melting her even as soft flakes of snow began to flutter around them. She clutched at him, rubbing herself against him in a helpless attempt to ease the ache of her suddenly sensitive breasts. When the thick, rigid length of his arousal met her belly, she let out a squeak, whether of alarm or excitement, she wasn’t sure.
The sound was enough to startle him, and he withdrew, leaving her suddenly aware of the cold she’d meant them to escape. The cold. The house. The party.
“Oh, no!” she gasped. The potion. Oh, goodness, the potion. He must have been fighting it all this time, and then she’d given in and he’d forgotten himself. He wasn’t ravenous for her. He only thought he was.
“Belle?” He sounded dazed. “What’s wrong? Did I go too far? Push you too fast?”
She grabbed him by the wrist and propelled him toward the house. “Inside.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I should never have… Please don’t hate me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It wasn’t your fault.”
Mabel flew through the garden with furious strides. How could she have been so foolish? What would happen once the potion wore off? Now that she knew what it was to kiss him, she could never go back. How could she see him look at her with nothing more than friendship and not remember that desperate desire?
And how would he feel? As a gentleman, the guilt would plague him. He would continue to blame himself, whatever the circumstances. What had she done?
Drew’s long legs easily matched her pace. “It was absolutely my fault. I started it.”
“You’re confused. It’s only the potion.”
“What potion?”
She pushed through the small servant’s entrance into the warmth of the house. The kitchens buzzed with activity, the dedicated staff working feverishly to keep the large party flush with food and drink. Mabel pulled Drew’s jacket up to cover her head as she rushed through, not wanting to risk any of the male servants seeing her face and causing another uproar. Drew followed close behind, compelled, no doubt, by the blasted potion.
“I should never have drunk Susan’s silly concoction,” she muttered under her breath.
“Lady Mabel, shouldn’t you sit and warm up?” Drew asked, concern and confusion mingling in his voice. “Have some tea, perhaps? Or a brandy to settle your nerves?”
Mabel whirled around and they collided, the contact sparking a new wave of desire. “My nerves are perfectly fine,” she snapped, stepping back to look up into his face. It didn’t help. The ring of gold in the center of his brown eyes blazed like the sun. His lips were reddened from their kisses and still moist. She inhaled sharply. “Now be quiet,” she scolded. “We must find a place where we can be alone.” She spun away and began to walk again, knowing he would follow.
“I don’t know whether ‘alone’ is a good idea,” he replied.
It probably wasn’t. She’d already demonstrated how easily she could lose all common sense. But she didn’t dare go anywhere near other men, and she needed at least a moment to explain the situation to him. She couldn’t let him go on thinking he’d somehow taken advantage of her.
She led him straight to the breakfast room. No one would be using it until morning, but even so she wedged a chair beneath the door handle to prevent anyone entering behind them. Confident she was safe from prying eyes, she turned up the lights and gestured at the table.
“Please, sit. We need to talk. Are you warm enough, now?” She removed his jacket and held it out to him. “Here, this will help.”
“I’m fine.” He slipped the jacket back on, but didn’t sit, staring her down with arms crossed over his chest. “Now tell me what is going on and why I can’t take you back to the party.”
“My cousin Susan—”
A fist hammering on the door interrupted. “Lady Mabel!” a man’s voice shouted.
“Dammit,” she grumbled, shocking herself with the curse. “Someone recognized me.”
Thud. Thud. “Lady Mabel, we know you’re in there!”
“Come out, my love!” another voice called.
The door trembled as someone rammed into it from the outside. The chair beneath the knob shifted.
“Who’s in there with you?” a third voice demanded.
Drew’s eyes flicked back and forth from the door to Mabel. “Dash it, Belle, what the devil is happening?”
Before she could answer, the door burst open with a reverberating crack, sending splinters flying and the chair tumbling. Men poured into the room, half trampling one another, calling her name.
Her heart pounded. Panic swelled within her. She had only one recourse. She grabbed hold of Drew’s arm with both hands and cried, “Protect me!”