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herbaceous, like a combination of pepper and rosemary with a mysterious flavor underneath that reminded her . . . of the first sip of steaming chocolate on a chilly morning . The flavor of it warmed her through. She licked her lips to be certain, but made the mistake of looking up at him.
    He was staring at her lips, his brow furrowed.
    The fireflies vanished from his eyes as his dark pupils expanded. The fingers that were curled beneath her chin spread out and stole around to the base of her neck. He lowered his head again, but this time he did not simply brush his lips over hers. Instead, he tasted her, flicking his tongue over the same path hers had taken.
    A small, foreign sound purred in her throat. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Kissing Rathburn was wrong on so many levels. They weren’t truly engaged. In fact, they were acquaintances only through her brother. They could barely stand each other. The door to the study was closed— highly improper . Her parents or one of the servants could walk in any minute. She should be pushing him away, not encouraging him by parting her lips and allowing his tongue entrance. She should not curl her hands over his shoulders, or discover that there was no padding in his coat. And she most definitely should not be on the verge of leaning into him—
    There was a knock at the door. They split apart with a sudden jump, but the sound had come from the hall. Someone was at the front of the house.
    She looked at Rathburn, watching the buttons of his waistcoat move up and down as he caught his breath. When he looked away from the door and back to her, she could see the dampness of their kiss on his lips. Her kiss.
    He grinned and waggled his brows as if they were two criminals who’d made a lucky escape. “Not quite as buttoned-up as I thought.” He licked his lips, ignoring her look of disapproval. “Mmm . . . jasmine tea. And sweet, too. I would have thought you’d prefer a more sedate China black with lemon. Then again, I never would have thought such a proper miss would have such a lush, tempting mouth either.”
    She pressed her lips together to blot away the remains of their kiss. “Have you no shame? It’s bad enough that it happened. Must you speak of it?”
    He chuckled and stroked the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip as his gaze dipped, again, to her mouth. “You’re right, of course. This will have to be our secret. After all, what would happen if my grandmother discovered that beneath a façade of modesty and decorum lived a warm-blooded temptress with the taste of sweet jasmine on her lips?”
    She was saved by another knock, this one on the study door. Parker entered the room, a burnished bronze salver in hand. By this time, they were a respectable distance apart and her expression was back to its usual cast of disapproval. The butler presented her with an invitation. “This just arrived, Miss.”
    “Thank you, Parker.” And when he exited, he left the door open. Bless his soul.
    Apparently, Rathburn found that amusing as well. “That will be an invitation to tea from my grandmother. Her seal’s on the back.”
    Tea with the dowager. Engaged to Rathburn. Could her day get any worse?
    Before she could open the missive, he took her hand and bowed over it, lifting his head just enough to wink at her as he pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Until tomorrow, Emma—”
    She yanked her hand out of his grasp. “If you call me Emmaline after what I’ve done for you, then so help me, I’ll toss this invitation into the fire.”
    He laughed, the rich sound tingling inside her ears and along the soles of her feet simultaneously. The sensation took her by complete surprise and left her staring after him as he walked toward the door.
    Before he left, he turned and bowed once more. “Until tomorrow, Emma— mine .”

 

C HAPTER F IVE
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    “W hat do you mean, you’re not going?” Emma said, the following afternoon.
    Her mother pushed away a fall of