When Sparks Fly by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

who knew exactly what he was doing. And to whom. What an intoxicating thought! A man was kissing her because he wanted to.
    No, that couldn’t possibly be the reason.
    She drew back to search his face for an explanation. “Why are you—”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said, clearly flustered, though his eyes had turned a molten silver that made her heart race. “You just looked like you needed kissing. And I wanted to be the one to do it.”
    His gaze trailed down to her mouth, and he swallowed. Then he cupped her chin in his hand, running his thumb along her lower lip. “I’m afraid you’ll have to delay kicking me in the shin a little longer.”
    â€œWhat?” That was all she managed before he was kissing her again.
    Only this time he did it differently, his thumb pressing her lips apart so he could dart his tongue inside, first warily, then more boldly. It was the most thrilling thing a man had ever done to her.
    Her bones wobbled, then liquefied. If he hadn’t been holding her against the door, she would have slid right down it. Which left her only one choice—throw her arms about his neck so she didn’t fall.
    No wonder Robert Burns spoke of being “by passion driven.” She seemed to be vaulting into the unknown without a rope.
    When her hands locked about his neck, he uttered a sound low in his throat, then dragged her closer, pressing his weight into her, engulfing her with his heat. She could feel the rich warmth even through his lawn shirt. His tongue did heady, wicked things to her mouth, delving and plunging and making her giddy with the pleasure of it—
    â€œMy lord?” came a voice so close it sounded as if it were right at her head. That was followed by a knock that made them both jump. “Are you in there?”
    Mr. Huggett! Oh, dear.
    Lord Thorncliff muttered an oath under his breath, but didn’t move away. She didn’t mind. She rather liked the feel of his body plastered to hers. It was cozy. And very intimate, especially when his hot gaze pinned her while his hand trailed to her ribs, then her hips, in a caress that left small fires blazing wherever it passed.
    â€œWhat is it, Huggett?” he asked in a throaty voice.
    â€œI told Miss Bancroft I would speak to you—” the butler began.
    â€œIt’s all right.” A faint smile touched his lips. “She already did herself.”
    â€œBut I promised her—”
    â€œGood night, Huggett,” Lord Thorncliff said firmly. “I’m sure whatever you have to say can wait until morning.”
    â€œVery well, sir,” came the butler’s reply, followed by footsteps retreating.
    Silence reigned. Painfully conscious of how close they’d come to being discovered in a compromising position, Ellie slid from between the door and Lord Thorn­cliff.
    The reckless kiss had astonished her. Flattered her. Confused her, especially having come from the churlish baron. She couldn’t look at him or catch her breath, and her belly churned alarmingly, making her feel jumbled up inside.
    What was a proper lady to say after a man kissed her senseless?
    Actually she wasn’t supposed to let him kiss her senseless in the first place.
    â€œForgive me, Miss Bancroft,” he said. “I should not have . . . that is, I know it was impertinent of me to . . .” He trailed off awkwardly.
    â€œIt’s all right.” At least he felt as strange about it as she did. “I didn’t mind.”
    â€œThere’s that, at least.”
    The odd statement made her glance at him. He suddenly looked very young to her. “How old are you?”
    The question seemed to startle him. “Twenty-­seven. Why?”
    â€œI thought you were . . . older,” she said inanely. “But . . . well . . . you’re not terribly much older than I am.”
    A shutter darkened his features.