And then his chest began shaking and she jumped guiltily. Which was ridiculous. She was saving him, for heaven’s sake!
“Are you cold?” He must be.
But when that kissable mouth of his stretched into a wide smile, a dreadful feeling rolled through her. He smelled of an all-too-familiar aroma, one she easily recognized as she’d caught the scent on her father’s breath often enough.
This blighter was foxed! And he wasn’t shaking from cold, he was shaking with laughter now.
Those annoyingly gorgeous lashes of his fluttered and opened to gaze at her sleepily. “Are you an angel, love? Because if you are, I should have died years ago.” Hooded and drunken eyes gazed at her as he reached up to touch her face.
Noelle brushed it away and shook him. “You have to get up, sir. You can’t stay out here in the cold all night.”
“Come down here and join me. We can keep one another warm.” His voice sounded low and inviting, sending a deep rumble of delicious sin vibrating through her, despite the freezing snow.
Good Gravy. Jug bitten for certain! “You must get up!” Noelle took hold of his shoulders and made a valiant attempt at pulling him into a sitting position. If his arms hadn’t wound about her, she might even have succeeded.
Instead she found herself laying atop the bounder.
“Kiss me first. Kiss me and then I’ll do anything you want.” He was still staring at her from beneath those damned lashes of his. His body felt warm beneath her despite the wind and snow howling around them.
“Oh, but please?” Noelle pushed herself up so that her face wasn’t quite so very close to his. And then her gaze dropped to his lips for an instant. “I really don’t want you to die out here.”
“One kiss.” Those lips of his nearly had her mesmerized. They were so supple and full, curved into the slightest grin.
Perhaps it was due to the late hour. Maybe, it was the hopelessness she’d felt for months now. Or possibly it was simply the fact that her toes were quickly turning into ice but whatever the reason, she was willing to negotiate if it meant getting both of them out of the snow and by a fire.
“You will come with me. If I kiss you?”
“Oh, for certain.” He licked his lips and Noelle realized she had licked her own in response.
“Very well.” She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his. And oh, dear. She’d been quite right. They were kissable indeed. Cold but also warm. Soft but also hard. Butterflies took flight in her belly and she thought her heart would burst out of her chest.
But she was a lady and she had a task to complete and pulled away before she allowed herself to do something really stupid—such as allow him to keep on kissing her.
“Now.” She spoke firmly as she crawled off of him and back onto her knees. “Get up. You’ll feel right horrible for the rest of your life if I fall ill and die simply because you refused to rouse yourself enough so that both of us can get inside, won’t you?”
Something in his eyes changed in that moment. Something that led her to believe that he may be something different than the drunken fellow she’d taken him for at first. He might be a guest at the inn, but since she hadn’t met many people since coming here, she wouldn’t recognize him even if he was one of the local townsmen. He’d grown serious though and no longer looked uncaring and crazed.
He nodded and after a bit of fumbling, grunting, and pulling, she managed to assist him to his feet.
“Where?” He mumbled as he leaned on her heavily. She bit her lip. If he was a guest of the inn, wouldn’t he have said so?
“This way,” she said, making her decision. He might not belong at the inn and besides that, she’d rather not present herself to a room full of strangers while wearing only her coat and scarf and boots along with her night rail.
It seemed to take forever, almost as though they took two steps backward for every one step forward and when they finally reached the door to her aunt’s house, she felt limp with relief.
When she pushed it open, she was grateful to see Mr. Clark standing there awaiting her, dressed in his coat and boots but with a stockinged cap on his head. “I saw you out my window. I was coming out to help you, my lady.”
He got on the other side of her gentleman patient and shouldered most of the weight. Getting him across the square had drained her off all warmth and energy. “Go back to bed now. I’ll take care of him.” He urged her. Her shoulders hunched in relief.
Noelle didn’t really want to relinquish her position but as she stepped back, she nearly toppled over, her knees weak. Despite her urge to continue to care for the man, allowing Mr. Clark to take over was probably for the best.
“You won’t let him die? He seems to be a decent sort of gentleman.” She flicked her gaze to the man whose life she’d just saved and grimaced. “Despite his current condition.”
“I will not allow him to die, Lady Noelle. But you must go back to bed. If anyone outside this house asks, it was I who brought him in. Do you understand?”
She nodded, grateful for his help both in bringing the man inside and protecting her reputation. “Of course. Thank you.”
With one last look, Noelle released her hold on the handsome wretch and then scurried up the stairs.
Oh, my. Kissable, indeed!
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My Dashing Duke
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About the Author
Annabelle Anders began publishing in 2017 and left her day job a year later. Since then, she’s published over ten full length Regency Romance novels, with one of them receiving the distinguished RITA nomination
