“You’re right,” he said gently. “But believe me, I’m even more annoying when I’m trying to be polite.”

They were standing too close, the crisp scents of his wool coat and starched linen shirt drifting to her nostrils. And the deeper underlying fragrance of male skin, fresh and spiced with bergamot shaving soap. Bowman watched her with the same intensity, very nearly fascination, that he had shown in the parlor. It made her nervous, being stared at in such a way.

Hannah squared her shoulders. “I must be frank, Mr. Bowman. I do not believe that you and Lady Natalie will suit in any way. There is not one atom of likeness between you. No common ground. I think it would be a disaster. And it is my duty to share this opinion with Lady Natalie. In fact, I will do whatever is necessary to stand in the way of your betrothal. And though you may not believe this, it is for your own good as well as Lady Natalie’s.”

Bowman didn’t seem at all concerned by her opinion, or her warning. “There’s nothing I can do to change your opinion of me?”

“No, I’m quite stubborn in my opinions.”

“Then I’ll have to show you what happens to women who stand in my way.”

His hands slipped around her with an easy stealth that caught her completely unaware. Before she comprehended what was happening, one powerful arm had brought her against the animal heat of his hard masculine body. With his other hand, he grasped the nape of her neck, and tilted her head backward. And his mouth took hers.

Hannah went rigid in his arms, straining backward, but he followed and secured her more firmly against him. He let her feel how much bigger he was, how much stronger, and as she gasped and tried to speak, he took swift advantage of her parted lips.

A wild jolt went through her, and she reached up to push his head away. His mouth was experienced and unexpectedly soft, possessing hers with seductive skill. She had never thought a kiss could have a taste, an intimate flavor. She had never dreamed that her body would welcome something her mind utterly rejected.

But as Bowman forced her to accept the deep, drugging kiss, she felt herself going limp, her senses overrun. Her traitorous fingers curled into the thick raven locks of his hair, the strands as heavy as raw silk. And instead of rebuffing him, she found herself holding him closer. Her mouth trembled and opened beneath his expert persuasion as liquid fire raced through her veins.

Slowly Bowman took his lips from hers and guided her head to his chest, which moved beneath her cheek with strong, uneven breaths. A mischievous whisper tickled her ear. “This is how we court girls in America. We grab them and kiss them. And if they don’t like it, we do it again, harder and longer, until they surrender. It saves us hours of witty repartee.”

Looking up at him sharply, Hannah saw a dance of laughter in his wicked dark eyes, and she drew in a breath of outrage. “I’m going to tell”

“Tell anyone you like. I’ll deny it.”

Her brows pulled together in a scowl. “You are worse than a scoundrel. You’re a cad.”

“If you didn’t like it,” he murmured, “you shouldn’t have kissed me back.”

“I did not”

His mouth crushed over hers again. She made a choked sound, hitting his chest with her fist. But he was impervious to the blow, his hand coming up and engulfing her entire fist. And he consumed her with a deeply voluptuous kiss, stroking inside her, doing things she had never suspected people did while kissing. She was shocked by the searing invasion, and even more by the pleasure it gave her, all her senses opening to receive more. She wanted him to stop, but more than that, she wanted him to go on forever.

Hannah felt his breath rush fast and hot against her cheek, his chest rising and falling with unsteady force. He let go of her hand, and she leaned weakly against him, gripping his shoulders for balance. The urgent pressure of his mouth forced her head back. She surrendered with a soft moan, needing something she had no name for, some way to soothe the anxious rhythm of her pulse. It seemed that if she could just pull him closer, tighter, it might ease the sensual agitation that filled every part of her.

Drawing back reluctantly, Bowman finished the kiss with a teasing nudge of his lips, and cradled the side of her face in his hand. The amusement had faded from his eyes, replaced by a dangerous smolder.

“What is your first name?” His whisper fanned like a waft of steam across her lips. At her silence, he dragged his mouth lightly over hers. “Tell me, or I’ll kiss you again.”

“Hannah,” she said faintly, knowing she could not bear any more.

His thumb caressed the scarlet surface of her cheek. “From now on, Hannah, no matter what you say or do, I’m going to look at your mouth and remember how sweet you taste.” A self-mocking smile curved his lips as he added quietly, “Damn it.”

Releasing her with care, he went to the bell pull and rang for a housemaid. When Hannah’s cloak and hat were brought, he took them from the maid. “Come, Miss Appleton.”

Hannah couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She knew her face was terribly red. Without doubt, she had never been so mortified and confused in her life. She waited in dazed silence as he deftly draped the cloak around her and fastened it at her throat.

“Until we meet again in Hampshire,” she heard him say. The tip of his forefinger touched her chin. “Look up, sweetheart.”

Hannah obeyed jerkily. He placed the hat on her head, carefully adjusting the brim. “Did I frighten you?” he whispered.