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life is very rewarding.”
    “And I’m positive that your pestering me has nothing to do with Rebecca. You’re craving a bit of adventure, a bit of excitement.”
    “How absurd.”
    “You’re adamant that no one revel, that no one have any fun. Why is that?”
    “I’m not against re . . . re . . . reveling
per se.”
    “You’re not? I’m so glad to hear it.” He chuckled. “Have you ever been kissed, Miss Drake?”
    “No.” She was agog, so swept up that she was like a puppet that couldn’t budge unless he tugged on her strings.
    Was he going to kiss her? Was she going to let him?
    “You loudly proclaim that chastity should rule, that people should curb their impulses at all times. But it’s recently dawned on me that perhaps you’ve never had to learn how difficult it can be to practice restraint.” He cocked a brow. “Especially when it’s what you want very, very much.”
    “You’re spewing rubbish.”
    “Am I? Let’s see how adverse you are to dallying. Let’s see how adept you are at controlling yourself when moderation is the last thing you desire.”
    Overcome by his intensity, she turned away, and he nuzzled at her nape. She hadn’t known the spot was so sensitive, and she shivered, goose bumps cascading down her arms. He was in no hurry, nibbling in a leisurely fashion that drove her wild, and she mustered a tiny amount of sanity and pushed at his chest, but it was like shoving a boulder.
    “Have you any idea of the activities men and women enjoy?”
    “No . . . no . . . I . . .”
    “I’ll show you. I’ll give you a little taste.”
    “You mustn’t . . . you . . .”
    She was babbling like an imbecile, and she’d meant to complete the sentences but couldn’t. He’d bitten down and was sucking at her skin. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t object or rebuff him.
    “Lovers experience physical pleasure,” he murmured, as he trailed up her neck, across her cheek. “They can become obsessed and unable to ignore their passion. Is that how you’ll be when I’m finished with you? I wonder. . . .”
    He found her mouth, his lips alighting on hers, and she was stunned by how sweet and how gentle he was.
    She’d expected to be grabbed, to be mauled, so she was unprepared for his tender advance. If he’d been rough, if he’d been demanding, she might have located the strength to fend him off, but as it was, she was enchanted. It had never occurred to her that an embrace could be so precious.
    “Kiss me back, Ellen,” he whispered.
    As if she was his slave, she had to obey, and tentatively, she reached out and hugged him, by the small gesture granting him permission to continue.
    “Yes,” he soothed, “that’s it.”
    He increased the pressure, his tongue flicking out, tracing across her bottom lip. Asking. Asking again.
    She grasped what he wanted, and she opened wide and welcomed him inside. Their tongues tangled, working in a combined rhythm that thrilled, that terrified.
    She’d leapt into an inferno. She pined for things she couldn’t name, was frantic for a relief she couldn’t describe, and she had no clue how to stop the spiral, no desire to have it wane.
    His hands were busy, and she vaguely noted that he was removing her combs and soon her long, curly tresses would swing down. She couldn’t pin them up without assistance. What would she do? How would she get home from the party without being seen?
    The panicked thoughts floated away. She didn’t care. Not about her hair, not about being detected. The only factor that mattered was Stanton and what he was doing to her. The rest of the world had ceased to exist. There was just him and her and the quiet, secluded room.
    “I love your hair,” he said as he jerked the last comb free.
    His compliment pricked at a forlorn place in her heart. She was flattered, elated that he’d noticed a personal detail, and she drew him nearer. He grew more bold, massaging her breasts, caressing the mounds through the fabric of her