Free A Valentine For Christmas - A Regency Novella by Kate Harper

his lips crushed the softness of her own. How did she know that the insistence of his mouth should lead her to open her own to him? It was as much a mystery as the flood of delicious sensation that cascaded through her when his tongue slid into the warm, dark intimacy of her mouth. The delicate invasion created a sudden heaviness within; moving through her breasts, slipping between her legs… This was that thing she had read about in books – read about and thrilled to – without actually understanding what the author had meant. It was hinted at, but never elucidated because some things needed to be experienced.
    He did not take her in his arms. The only connection was their mouths but it was an anchor to the emotional storm that now blew within her with all the intensity of the one currently beating against the walls of the house.
    When he finally broke that connection, drawing back to look at her, his dark eyes glazed and hectic, Charlie was still incapable of speech. She could only stare at him, as a mouse must necessarily stare at a cat who held its fate in thrall, pinned in place by the force of her own, unexpected passion and the look on his face.
    For a long, long moment, neither of them moved. Then Lord Valentine uttered a curse that Charlie was almost sure was far worse than anything she had yet heard in her eighteen years, before turning to stride swiftly from the room.
    ‘Well,’ she breathed in wonder to the empty room, trying to get her breath back. ‘I certainly did not expect that !’
    Which she hadn’t, not at all. It had been a most shocking and scandalous occurrence she had ever experienced in all of her eighteen years.
    If only she felt a little more shocked and a little less enchanted.
     
    His lordship was shocked, well and truly. Shocked to have kissed the innocent daughter of his host. Shocked that he had lost control of himself enough to have done such a reprehensible thing. Just… shocked. And not least by his fervent desire to repeat the unexpected act of madness. Ending that kiss had taken a great deal of will power. Not immediately repeating his folly even more so. In the relative security of his room, he paced the floor and tried to understand what had just happened.
    Some of it was comprehensible, by the standards he was familiar with.
    Her lips had been so soft, so incredibly sweet. Thank God he had not followed his inclination to take her into his arms. Pressing that delightful body against his own would have been his undoing. Valentine tried, and failed, to recall a time when he had behaved so appallingly. Not even when he was in his cups had he leapt upon a woman in such a way, let alone a little innocent like Charlotte Weathering.
    There was no excusing his behavior. The devil only knew how he was going to face her again. An apology was certainly in order although, considering what had just happened, it would be wise not to spend any more time alone with Miss Weathering that was strictly necessary. She was bad for a man’s composure, both mental and physical. Even now, thinking about the physical aspect had him aching.
    Valentine groaned out loud.
    He had not thought it possible that his stay with the Weatherings could grow more problematic but he had been wrong. Although honestly, his bizarre behavior had come as a complete surprise. He had not known he was going to kiss the chit. It was an impulse that had swept through him when he had looked down into those limpid eyes of hers, exacerbated by the fact that she had the unhappy knack of stirring strong emotions within him. And he could not discount those lips of hers – full and soft and so very kissable – that had rested so close to his own hungry mouth. It was hardly an excuse – he had no excuses – but it was the truth of it. Charlotte Weathering was the kind of girl that needed to be kissed frequently and well. He had seen that from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.
    Unfortunately she was also the kind of girl he