Tempted by a Lady’s Smile by Christi Caldwell Read Free Book Online

through the quagmire of her thoughts. She flared her eyes wide in horror. “You ki—”
    “I returned your kiss,” he supplied for her. “Yes.” He took a step closer. “And it was an enjoyable one, wouldn’t you say, sweet?”
    His words rang a gasp from her and she ignored that shockingly improper question. Gemma moved in a whir of skirts, placing the billiards table between them. “Returned my kiss?” she choked out. He painted her as a wanton and, with his flippant words, made her first kiss something shameful. Granted it was scandalous to go about embracing strangers but still, it had been a thing of wonder. Annoyance blended with mortified anger in a violent dance—with him and herself. “First,” she stuck a finger out. “It takes two to waltz.” His lips twitched, only fueling her outrage. “And second,” she dropped her voice to a hushed whisper, “ you, sir, kissed me .”
    He made a tsking sound and she gritted her teeth. “Ah, disappointed that I was not another?”
    She bit the inside of her cheek, willing him to silence.
    The gentleman continued coming toward her. “You were searching out a particular gentleman who was…” He winged an eyebrow up and stopped beside her. “Good, kind, and loyal.” Another mocking grin pulled at his lips. “You would do very well with a terrier.”
    Despising that his own mocking thoughts aligned so very shamefully alongside her earlier ones, Gemma’s skin burned hot. She dropped her voice to a furious whisper. “You should have alerted me to your presence.”
    “I did. I made to rise and you urged me to sit.”
    “Because I believed you were another,” she said, exasperation creeping into her tone.
    He set the snifter in his hand on the edge of the billiards table, bringing her attention briefly to that very nearly empty glass, and then she jerked her attention back to his. “Regardless, considering I know not only the taste of your lips.” He continued over her outraged gasp. “A taste of mint and honey—”
    “Mr. Jonas!” She’d never believed even one’s ears could go hot with embarrassment.
    “I also know your heart’s greatest yearning.” His lips twitched with amusement and filled with the need to plant the lout a deserved facer, her fingers curled into reflexive balls. “Then at the very least I can know your—”
    “My name is Miss Gemma Reed,” she gritted out, settling her hands on her hips. After all, there was something wholly wrong in receiving one’s first kiss from a complete stranger, and then confessing the most intimate pieces that dwelled inside her heart. “And I am a friend of Lady Beatrice Dennington.”
    “Then we are a perfect pair, friends both to the Denningtons.”
    Gemma threw her hands up. “We are nothing. You are an aggravating, infuriating, exasperating—”
    “The latter two mean the same.”
    “Lout. And I’ll not stand here and be mocked by a man who should conceal his identity and—”
    He dipped his head and swallowed the remaining words with his mouth.
    Gemma stilled under this gentle assault, so very different from the explosive meeting of mouths earlier that evening. She fluttered her lids and stretched her hands up. To push him away. Solely to push him away. And yet…
    A warm fluttering danced in her belly and a slow heat built inside, growing and spreading until every corner of her being trilled awake at his tender ministrations. Of their own volition, her fingers found purchase in the fabric of his black coat, and she tugged at it, leaning into his kiss.
    His kiss.
    She froze.
    Nay, their kiss.
    Her second kiss. Neither of which belonged to Lord Westfield and both belonged to this Mr. Richard Jonas; dryly mocking, and constantly teasing.
    Gemma sprung away from him and knocked painfully against the billiard table. The hard mahogany bit into her hip and she welcomed the dull, throbbing ache that served as a distraction from the guilt of her betrayal. She stuck up a quavering finger.