Free Her Notorious Viscount by Jenna Petersen Page A

chest.
    She frowned. “Of course. I require your participation in every aspect of our time together, otherwise we won’t get far at all. Now then, I would like to see how you move.”
    Nicholas felt his eyebrows knit together in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
    She looked at him as if he was quite daft. “Please walk about the room, like you would do normally. Try not to think about what you are doing or that you are being watched. Be as un-practiced as possible.”
    Nicholas stared. Well, this was the very end. He had never experienced a woman like this. When he made his offer to her, he hadn’t thought that she would take her charge so seriously that she forced herself to tamp down and forget all the attraction between them.
    It seemed his duty to remind her. If only to see her cheeks flush.
    “But my dear,” he drawled. “How should I walk?”
    “As I said, just move as you would normally,” she repeated, again looking at him as if he were not intelligent in the least.
    “But you see, a man walks differently in various situations. If I am in an unfamiliar surrounding, where I’m not certain if I’m in danger, I might be cautious.”
    He turned away and demonstrated what he meant, his shoulders back so he looked as big as possible, his fists at the ready, his eyes flitting to every corner in a subtle analysis of his surroundings.
    “Or if I were relaxed, comfortable, amongst friends, I might move quite differently.” He changed his gait, relaxing his shoulders, slowing his steps.
    Then he turned back to her. She was staring at him, her expression unreadable. “Or would you prefer I walk like I would while pursuing a woman?”
    He stepped toward her in a few long strides, possessive. Feral. Slowly, he inched around her as she had done earlier, but while her examination of his form had been clinical, this was something entirely different. He moved in close, almost touching her, but not quite. He circled her frame like a cat, stalking and inviting. Making it clear with every step that he could claim her any time he desired to do so.
    When he moved to stand before her again, she looked up at him. Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly and her eyes had become a fraction glazed. Her throat worked as she swallowed.
    There it was. Nicholas could have crowed. He could move her. Remind her that he was a man, after all.
    “You have grace,” she said softly, when a long moment of silence had passed between them. “Perhaps you are not a lost cause after all, my lord.”
    Nicholas froze. He had been “my lorded” twice that night. Both times, the address had cut him. His eyes shut, and he worked to block out thoughts of Anthony. Thoughts of the gravity of his situation.
    When he opened them again, he found that Jane’s expression had changed as well. The desire he had inspired still lingered in the background, but something far more potent had come to the forefront.
    Pity.
    And he had to wipe that away.
    “Oh my dear, I am a lost cause. Trust in that,” he said, his voice rough.
    He reached for her without realizing he intended to do so. She stumbled forward in surprise at his sudden movement, falling against his chest, and his arms came around her, almost of their own volition. She was warm, fragile, and he felt her heart fluttering with a wild beat against his own. Her face tilted up and he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t stop himself.
    He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
    She tasted like tea with honey, sweet and rich. And while her lips pursed together in surprise, they were still soft as satin and smooth against his own. He increased the pressure of his mouth, coaxing and demanding a response even though his rational mind told him to stop. That by doing this, he was threatening their bargain and his own promises to change.
    But he couldn’t listen to that voice. Kissing her had been as much a surprise to him as it was to her, but now that he was doing it, he wanted more.
    Her lips relaxed