Free Frovtunes’ Kiss by Lisa Manuel Page A

London neighborhood boast such an official, occupying convenient offices identified by bold lettering above the front door?
    He glanced up and down the street, detecting nothing but the facades of Mayfair’s lavish residences.
    He had to admit he’d rushed off without giving the task proper consideration. Perhaps he should go back and seek assistance. But what would Miss Letitia think of him then?
    Letitia Foster. Miss Letitia, of the golden brown hair and desert-sky eyes, sleek, willowy, a pharaoh’s treasure. She was taller and a little more angular than most women, but he especially liked that about her. He adored the slender silhouette of her hips, the delicate lines of her collarbones, the grace of those long, lean arms. Ah, she fired his every instinct to protect, provide, good heavens, lay down his life.
    She irritated Graham, but only because he didn’t understand her spirit. He misinterpreted the spark and called it temper. But Shaun saw it—felt it—like the desert sun, bright and glorious and utterly without mercy.
    Graham was right about one thing, though. Her name, Letitia, didn’t suit her. Not at all. Too fussy and overdone, like hothouse flowers. But Letty—yes, that was pretty, vivacious, full of life. Just like her.
    Letty. Let. He could just hear himself. Morning, Let, shall we have a walk, or, Come give us a kiss, my Let
.
    Or even, perhaps,
Marry me, Let
.
    He groaned. Thus far the girl hadn’t shown him the slightest regard. Better he returned to raiding tombs. That’s where he was at his best, where he shined. He thoroughly enjoyed fooling sheiks into believing he was the king’s ambassador. But with a woman like Letty…Shaun sighed. There could be no pretending.
    Where the devil would he find a magistrate?
    The king’s ambassador. That gave him an idea.

    Moira Hughes’s lips were all Graham had imagined. Soft, sweet, and as unpracticed as he had expected. And hoped. But certainly not without curiosity. Not without adventure.
    He felt her astonishment in a gasp that filled the interior of his mouth. He breathed it in and pressed for more, refusing her time to think. She went as rigid as a startled rabbit, but lingered rather than pulled away. Then her lips moved against his with a shy taste, an exploring nip. No other part of their bodies touched, but even at that, or because of that, he experienced an immediate rise in his trousers.
    Knowing she’d at any moment regain her ladylike sensibilities, Graham slipped his tongue into her mouth. He savored a moment of sheer bliss, fiery heaven, sweet sinner’s paradise, before she broke away with a shove that resulted in a full stroke of his tongue against the entire length of hers. A lifetime’s pleasure in one fell swoop.
    Her hand shot up. It started for his face, but then, oddly, fell to her side.
    It puzzled him, for he undoubtedly deserved the full force of her lovely hand.
    Her eyes glittered volcanic fury. “How
dare
you?”
    He wished he could say he was sorry. But blazing hell, he’d never been less sorry in his life. And for all the indignation flaming her cheeks, he’d wager that, for an instant at least, she hadn’t been entirely regretful, either.
    â€œYou’re a cur, a scoundrel, a—”
    â€œYou ransacked my study. I stole a kiss.” He shrugged. “Shall we call it fair?”
    â€œFair?” Her black eyes snapped. “What can you possibly know of fairness, Mr. Foster? You, who has everything a person could ever want, who lives life with a devil-may-care impertinence. You should be ashamed of yourself.” She swept an aggressive stride closer. “I’ll have you know I’m quite aware of your past, Mr. Foster, and I…”
    At those words, his enjoyment drained like blood from a wound, leaving a cold void inside him. It must have shown on his face. Her voice faded into uncertainty, and she stood balling the hem of