Free Time for a Duke by Ruth J. Hartman

amazing."
    "Why thank you, Lady Isabella. But, it does help that Uncle Sebastian is easily susceptible to suggestion."
    Izzy laughed as Charles helped her once again into the carriage. When she claimed one of the seats, she expected Charles to take the one opposite her as he'd done before. Instead, he sat right next to her, causing an inferno of thoughts and feeling to warm her body and mind. Sudden flashes zipped through her mind of what it would feel like to kiss his lips, feel his arms around her, without all of the many layers of clothes they now wore.
    Charles took her hand. "I realize this is inappropriate behavior, sitting on the same seat as you, but I thought you might need some encouragement before we encounter the ton ."
    Izzy raised one corner of her mouth. She was encouraged, all right, but not for the ton . She wanted so badly to kiss the man but was trying to stay in her 1812 persona. Would Charles make the first move? Please just kiss me!
    As if reading her thoughts, Charles leaned closer. He released her hand, placing both of his on either side of her face. She inhaled, intoxicated by his mingled scent of peppermint, spice, and just plain man. Time slowed as she watched his lips. They curved up, forming a dimple on the left side she'd never noticed before.
    The carriage dipped as its wheel encountered a rut, causing Izzy to fall forward. Charles wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Sighing, she closed her eyes, resting her cheek against the soft lapel of his coat.
    Charles loosened his grasp. "Wait. This isn't right. Something's missing."
    Izzy angled her head back to see his face. "What's missing?" Had he changed his mind about being close to her? No, please don ' t pull away.
    "This." Charles placed one gloved finger under her chin, lifted it, and touched his lips to hers. Izzy's skin buzzed, a low-level hum that penetrated down deep into her core. If her heart beat any quicker, it would fly out of her chest and disappear into the night.
    She felt her lips rise at the corners against his. Yes, just as she'd hoped, Charles' lips were soft and smooth as velvet. Izzy melted further into him, though she wondered how she could have gotten any closer. The fabric of her gloves swished against his coat lapel. Did proper ladies ever discard their gloves when passionately kissing a man in a carriage? It would be so much more enjoyable to feel his skin with her fingers.
    Charles brushed his lips across her cheek, her neck, and just below her earlobe. The warmth from his breath made her skin tingle. As he angled his head, Izzy felt his breath over her closed eyes, feathering across her eyelashes. He pulled her tight, until she was nearly on his lap. He set his chin on the top of her head. Surely heaven wasn't any sweeter.
    "Oh, Charles, after that I'm expected to be introduced to the ton ?" She felt the vibration from his throat before the chuckle escaped his lips.
    "Isabella, in all honesty, I'd completely forgotten the ball."
    "Oh, but—"
    The carriage slowed to a stop. Izzy scooted away from Charles just as he hopped to the other seat. As she smoothed her hair and gloves, she glanced up to see him mirroring her actions. She giggled. "Do I look presentable, your grace?"
    "Perfection, Lady Isabella. And I?"
    Izzy nodded. "Perfection as well."
    "All is well then, my lady. Shall we?"
    Charles helped Izzy from the carriage and then paid the driver, who tipped his hat. The clip-clop of the horses' hooves echoed on the cobblestone as the carriage bumped down the street. They walked up the short path to the Kringle's home, hurrying to escape the cold. Izzy held up the folds of her dress so she wouldn't trip on the steps, but not high enough to warrant scandal from any passersby. What had been so foreign and silly to her just two weeks ago now seemed almost second nature. Almost. She'd yet to encounter the ton . All of her training and practice might just fly out the window when they confronted her.
    As a butler