The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(27)

“And I don’t?” he barked.

“No.”

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out and pulled her against his chest crushing his lips across hers simultaneously. She pushed at his chest, but it did nothing to dissolve the burning passion between them. He’d always heard that love and hate drew a dangerously fine line between them. He had no idea that lust and fury did the same thing. He was drowning in her essence, and he didn’t know whether to love her or hate her for it. Her lips worked perfectly with his, making it almost seem like they were made for one another, yet he knew that was just him falling for the lie of lust. Sai’s breathing quickened when he attempted to lift her more firmly against himself. Lucky for him, he leaned against a nearby tree and tried to more fully get her within his grasp. Opening his eyes, he was suddenly desperate to glance at her swollen lips.

He pulled back in time to catch a glimpse of her raised hand fly forward in a slap. He ducked and winced, narrowly missing the swing, the force of which sent Sai falling to her knees. He pulled her up quickly into an embrace just as a curious couple walked by. “She’s tired, not feeling well,” he explained. They continued walking, shaking their heads in disapproval.

“Take me home,” Sai demanded, stomping her foot.

It made him laugh; he couldn’t help himself. Before he knew it, he was doubling over with tears streaming out of his eyes. “Forgive me!” he said, still laughing. “It’s just your face really does betray your emotions. If looks could kill…”

She smiled and bit her lip. Nicholas knew she was trying to keep from laughing; she probably didn’t want to offer him the satisfaction.

“You really must stop kissing me like that,” she stated while straightening her skirt. “It’s rude.”

“Rude, or unsettling?” he argued, suddenly confident he had a similar effect on her as she did on him.

“Both,” she admitted.

He pulled her into a chaste hug and whispered, “Lust and love are two different things.”

She stiffened in response and answered, “I know.”





Chapter Nine



The problem was Sara really didn’t know. She felt that lust was a natural part of passion, and passion fed directly into love; they were one in the same. A life without passion was not a life she desired. She had experienced enough of that life her entire existence. But Nicholas appeared to believe they were separate things.

He seemed the type of man who understood himself, but the sadness in his eyes when he spoke made her wonder just how much he knew about love. If he thought the purpose of marriage included only having children and possibly experiencing a small hint of happiness, he was wrong.

If anything, she had learned from the Song of Solomon, that passion and love coexisted—and she doubted very much that Nicholas knew that.

He was right in some respects. His kissing unsettled her—not because she didn’t like it; quite the opposite, in fact. But she felt his many reasons for kissing her had more to do with him than with her. The first was because he was feeding his own lust in the garden, the second time out of anger, and the third time just to prove her wrong.

What she wanted was to share a kiss with someone who truly wanted to kiss her just because she was her. Not because they had anything to prove.

Sara said nothing as Renwick escorted her into the waiting carriage. Instead, she mulled over more Scripture to keep her thoughts in check. She didn’t even notice when they stopped in front of her aunt’s house until Renwick cleared his throat and reached out to touch her hand.

His touch always sent the most incredible sensations in her stomach, she felt about ready to take flight from her seat. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry. My thoughts were far away.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” he asked.

Surely Nicholas Renwick was the spawn of the devil; the king himself would share state secrets with Renwick if he but asked. His velvet voiced paired with his perfect face did nothing for the butterflies in her already fluttered stomach.

“I’m fine.” She exhaled, hearing the ragged breath whoosh past her ears.

He laughed as he helped her down from the carriage. “Don’t forget about Almack’s.”

“Almack’s?” she asked.

Her question was met with a look of surprise in Nicholas’s eyes with an accompanying groan from his throat. “Please tell me you know about Almack’s.”

She shook her head even though it would have been better to lie.

Nicholas smiled before kissing her hand. “Only certain patronages can hand out invitations to Almack’s. One must be invited, and we, my dear, have been invited by Lady Jersey. It seems she is quite taken with you, as is the rest of London.”

Sara curtsied and answered before she could stop herself. “All of London but the one by whom I truly want to be taken.”

She took her leave, but not before noticing a wide-eyed Renwick frozen in shock. Serves him right, she thought before entering her aunt’s house.

Before Sara reached the blessed stairs, she heard her aunt shout out her name. She hung her head in defeat and followed the thunderous voice into the salon where earlier she had met half the ladies of the ton.

“Ah there you are, my gel!” Lady Fenton rose from the tiny loveseat and approached her, arms out in front of her body. “And how was the park?”