Jessica Howerty fell for her brother's best friend when she was a young girl, and never quite recovered. Now, all grown-up, she knows that a disreputable rake like Jacob Hurst is the last thing she should want. After two seasons in London, she's tir...
It was late in the evening when Jacob stumbled into Jessica's room, slamming the door behind him. Running a hand through his already messed-up hair, he looked around the room. His head was buzzing from the alcohol, but he couldn't stay in his room a moment longer. His father's words kept spinning in his mind and wouldn't stop. Catching sight of Jessica on the other side of the room, he lifted the nearly empty bottle of brandy in his hand and pointed it in her direction.
"You can't marry him!" he declared, a little louder than intended.
"I already told you. Jacob, you really should lea—"
"I need to hear you say it again." The thought of his father marrying her was so revolting, so... Wrong. It made him feel sick. He just needed to hear her confirm she wouldn't marry him once more. Needed to hear it from her lips.
"Jacob. I need you to leave."
"Just tell me." His voice sounded pleading. Maybe it was time to stop drinking. He put the bottle down on the small desk by the door before looking at her. And nearly choked. Until now, he'd not really paid attention, and what he saw made his mouth dry. He swallowed, looking from the tub of cooling bathwater on the other side of the room to Jessica.
The prudent thing would have been to turn around, or at least stop staring, but something rooted him to the spot. The thin chemise she wore didn't hide as much as it enhanced her newly bathed body. Her skin was flushed from the hot water and her long, blonde hair—still slightly damp—cascaded down her back all the way to her waist. Where she stood in the middle of the room, her feet bare and only that silky piece of fabric on, she might as well have stepped out of one of his lecherous daydreams.
"Jacob?" she queried when he didn't move or speak.
He couldn't have moved even if he wanted to, simply dumbstruck by her beauty. Bloody hell, why hadn't she been married off by now? Then he could have seduced her. He wasn't foreign to other men's wives, but the idea of her married made his chest tighten.
"I don't want you to marry him," he said, his voice hoarse.
She made an impatient movement with her hand. "I won't. I never realised drink made you this daft. We've been over this." When she advanced towards him, he rather wished she had stayed on the other side of the room. "You should leave now."
He really should. Right this minute. But when she stretched past him for the doorknob, he caught a whiff of the lavender scent that always clung to her, and he had to grab the edge of the desk to keep from reaching for her. How could anyone expect him to resist a temptation like this? He tried to calm his raging body, but all it accomplished was heightening the other senses—like the clean lavender scent tickling his nose—and he groaned.
Pulling back from the door, she gave him a look of concern. "Jacob? Is everything all right?"
No, everything was not all right. And her presence so close to him was not helping. "Yes," he lied. "I just need a minute."
Watching him quietly for a moment, she seemed to take in his appearance. He knew he was a mess. His hair standing on end from running his hands through it too many times, and his white shirt untucked and partly unbuttoned. As she came closer, he made sure not to release his grip on the desk. She reached out as if to touch his face, but caught herself and her hand dropped.
"Anything I can do to help?" she asked, and he nearly laughed.
"No," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Unless you'd like to put on a dressing gown."
"Oh! I forgot!" Her cheeks flushed pink, and she turned to walk away.
The logical thing would have been to allow her to do as he'd requested, but his brandy-infused body had other ideas and before she'd taken a second step, he reached out with one hand and grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards him. Their bodies collided, and he steadied her by putting both hands on her hips. She stared up at him and when he saw his hunger mirrored in hers, he was lost.
Leaning closer, he waited a moment and when she didn't immediately push him away, he brushed his lips across hers. Her eyes fluttered close and her lips parted as she let out a little sigh of content. Lifting his hands to cup her face in his palms, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her again. She tasted like heaven.
Warning bells went off in the back of his drink-addled brain. Just one kiss. He would allow himself one kiss. But as Jessica melted against him, he worried his restraint might do the same.
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