her black cape. The sweetness in the curve of her cheeks and the honesty in her green eyes, which were clearly upset with him now, made his heart constrict in a way it never had before.
âYour mother does not wish for you to marry him, does she?â
She pulled her arm from his grip and turned away from him.
It was true! It had to be, for she did not deny it. This was a very interesting development. Lisetteâs mother did not wish for her daughter to marry her fiancé. And in fact, preferred Quinton over the other man, or so it seemed from her actions this afternoon. His male vanity could not help being flattered, and he experienced a surge of happiness. Still, the situation called for caution.
Lisette suddenly spun back around to face him, her expression one of outrage.
âListen to me, Mr. Roxbury. I do not wish for you to call on me again. In fact, I do not wish to be in your presence again while Iâm in Brighton. I am engaged to be married and in no position to be out walking with you alone. No matter what my mother thinks!â
She looked unbearably lovely with her fair skin colored pink from the wind, her wild green eyes filled with ire, and tendrils of her rich auburn hair escaping from her fur-lined hood. He stepped closer to her as if magnetized, staring at her full lips.
She stood her ground, placing her hands on her hips. âYour visit today was inappropriate in every respect, especially when I told you quite clearly on the train that I did not wish to see you. People will get the wrong idea and think that we have feelings for each otherâoh!â
Quinton, unable to control himself any longer, pulled Lisette into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Instantly he knew he had made a dreadful, irrevocable mistake but by then it was too late. Too late to stop. He could do nothing but lose himself in the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. Damn, but no woman had ever had this effect on him. He knew Lisette felt it, too, for she did not resist him in the least. She did not pull away. She did not slap him in outrage as she very well should. No, this incredible and beautiful woman kissed him right back, her arms reaching up around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to reach him, her mouth opening to him in willing eagerness. His heart pounding like thunder in his chest, he slipped his tongue into the heated warmth of her mouth and drew her tightly against him.
Quinton had kissed his share of women over the years. He was a well-to-do gentleman from a prominent family, and it was within his rights to do so. Yet none of the experienced beauties he had bedded had ever affected him quite the way Lisette Hamilton did at this very moment.
He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his whole life.
It made no sense whatsoever. And scared the wits out of him.
He barely knew her. He had met her only the day before yesterday and here he was kissing her on a windswept beach. It was wrong. So terribly wrong for them to be acting this way when they were both promised to others. He did not think of Emmeline Tarleton. He did not think of the man who had already asked for Lisetteâs hand.
He knew with every fiber of his being that kissing Lisette this way was unconscionable and could only lead to dire consequences for one or both of them.
Yet he could not resist the feeling of rightness, of perfection, with her. He could not resist the feel of her body pressed intimately against his. He could not resist her soft lips and daring little tongue, which swirled within his own mouth. He could easily drown in the intoxicating fragrance of her being and not care if he ever saw the light of day again. He did not feel the chilly sea wind blowing around him, for he held in his arms all the warmth of a summer day in the heavenly form of Lisette Hamilton.
Her passionate response pleased him, and he held her tightly against his chest as she clung to him in wild abandon. They kissed as if they were