Free A Lady Never Surrenders by Sabrina Jeffries Page B

do was lay you down on one of those damned benches that are everywhere and—”
    He caught himself. But not quickly enough.
    “And what?” she prodded. “I would have let him ravish me like the wanton I am?”
    Confound it all. “I wasn’t saying that.”
    “That’s what it sounded like. Apparently you have some notion that I have no restraint, no ability to resist the attentions of a man I’ve known since childhood.”
    “You have no idea what a man can do to a woman!” Jackson shouted.
    She paled. “It was just a kiss.”
    He strode up to her, driven by a madness he couldn’t control. “That’s how it begins. A man like him coaxes you into a kiss, then a caress, then…”
    “I would never let it go beyond a kiss,” she said in outrage. “What sort of woman do you think I am?”
    He backed her toward the wall. “The sort who is too trusting to realize what some men are really after. You can’t control every situation, my lady. Some men take what they want, and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it.”
    “I know more about the true nature of men than you think.” She stopped short as she came up against the wall. “I can take care of myself.”
    “Can you?” He thrust his hands against the wall on either side of her, trapping her.
    He thought of his mother and the heartbreak she’d endured because some nobleman had taken a fancy to her. A roiling sickness swamped him at the idea of Lady Celia ever suffering such a thing because she was too reckless and naïve to recognize that she was not invincible.
    Bending in close, he lowered his voice. “You really believe you can stop any man who wants to hurt you, no matter how strong and determined he is?”
    Challenge shone in her eyes. “Absolutely.”
    It was time someone made her realize her vulnerability. “Prove it,” he growled. Then he brought his mouth down on hers.

Chapter Six
     
    C elia froze. She couldn’t believe it—Proper Pinter was kissing her. Hard, boldly, with more feeling than the duke.
    Good heavens.
    Stung by the challenge he’d laid down, she fumbled for the pistol in her reticule, but she’d just got it in her hand when he whispered hoarsely against her lips, “Sweet God, Celia…”
    He’d never called her by only her Christian name. He’d certainly never said it so … desperately. It made her hesitate with the pistol in her hand.
    He took her mouth once more, and her world shifted on its axis as his kiss became wilder, more consuming. This wasn’t about a challenge anymore—not when he kissed her as if her mouth held the secret to eternity. Such lovely, drugging kisses made her blood dance through her veins.
    His mouth slanted over hers, and his tongue swept the seam of her lips with an urgency that made her throat ache. Remembering how Ned had kissed her, she parted her lips for him.
    He went still for the briefest instant. Then with a groan, he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Ohhh, that was amazing . When Ned had done it she’d found it messy and disgusting, but Mr. Pinter’s kiss was as opposite to Ned’s as sun was to rain.
    Slow and sensual, he dove inside with hot strokes that had her eager for more. How could this be happening to her? With him ? Who could ever have guessed that the passionless Mr. Pinter could kiss so very passionately?
    Scarcely aware of what she did, she slipped her free hand up to clutch his neck. He pressed into her, flattening her against the wall as he ravished her mouth with no remorse. His whiskers abraded her chin, his mouth tasted of champagne, and the smell of orange trees sweetened the air around them.
    It was delicious … intoxicating. Paradise .
    She forgot the pistol in her other hand, forgot that they were in full view of anyone who might be outside the orangery windows, forgot that he’d just been lecturing her as if she were some ninnyhammer. Because he was kissing her now as if she were an angel. His angel. And Lord help her, but she wanted him to keep