Seducing the Viscount by Alexandra Ivy Read Free Book Online Page A

with a sharp excitement.
    â€œAre you going to kiss me again?” she demanded dreamily, already imagining those warm lips exploring her mouth.
    â€œI thought that was what I was doing.” With a tantalizing nip, he pulled back, a bold challenge sparkling in the gold eyes. “Perhaps you would prefer that I try some other method?”
    â€œOh.” Her heart missed a delicious beat. She had always thought of kissing as two sets of lips pressed together, just as he had done earlier. Certainly no one had ever whispered of any other possibility in her hearing. But there had been something wildly arousing in his lips teasing her throat and the brief flick of his tongue against her skin. Just how many other secrets were kept from stifled virgins? “Are there more than one?”
    â€œDevil a bit.” His short burst of laughter echoed through the vast room as he regarded her with amused disbelief. “You are either incredibly naïve or a fool.”
    Her lips thinned as realization struck. She truly was both naïve and a fool. His caresses had not sprung from a natural desire for her. They were nothing more than an effort to goad her.
    He would not be the first gentleman to enjoy the game of Shock the Aging Spinster.
    â€œWhy?” Mercy arched a cold brow. “Because I am just a provincial bumpkin who is not sophisticated enough to comprehend the rules of such games?”
    â€œBecause you should be slapping my face.”
    â€œI may yet.”
    He stilled, studying her as if the answers to the universe might be etched upon her upturned countenance.
    â€œPerhaps you truly are a wood sprite,” he murmured. “I have never encountered another woman like you.”
    With a motion that was swift enough to catch Ian off guard, Mercy slipped beneath his arm and moved to stand beside the crackling fireplace. Slowly he turned to regard her with a steady, unnervingly watchful gaze. Rather like a predator considering whether to continue toying with his prey or pouncing for the kill.
    â€œI presume that you came to the library in search of the whiskey you claimed to be in need of,” she said, waving her hand toward the distant corner. “I believe Lord Norrington keeps it on the side table.”
    Rather to her disappointment, he did not pursue her, instead folding his arms across his chest and leaning casually against the shelves. Not that she was fooled for a moment by his seeming nonchalance. The very air prickled with his restless, tightly coiled energy.
    â€œActually, I appear to have lost my thirst.”
    â€œIndeed?”
    â€œNothing less than a miracle, I assure you,” he drawled, his voice thick with self-mockery. “Perhaps it is because I am suddenly consumed with curiosity.”
    She shrugged. “This is certainly a suitable room to sate any curiosity.”
    â€œThere is nothing of interest in the dreary tomes. Only you can . . . sate my need, Miss Simpson.”
    Sate. A renegade shudder shook her body. Heavens but he was an accomplished seducer. Even standing at a distance he managed to make her body feel as if it were tingling with glorious life.
    The sensible part of her warned that she should flee to the safety of her bedchamber. Nothing good could come of playing such games with a practiced rake.
    Another part, that secret feminine part she was forced to keep hidden, was reluctant to end the unexpected encounter.
    â€œI presume we are still speaking of your curiosity?” she demanded before common sense could ruin the moment.
    A wicked smile curved his lips. “What else?” “What else, indeed.” She rolled her eyes. “Very well, sir. What has stirred your curiosity?”
    His head tilted, the movement oddly reminiscent of his aunt. “You seemed surprised that there could be more than one manner of kissing. Does that mean—”
    She smiled as his words came to an awkward halt. Almost as if he could not