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while he continued touching her.

But did she really want to think clearly in the face of such a bold proposal?

“Very well,” she agreed, her voice sounding slightly breathless even to her own ears. “I agree to sealing our bargain with a kiss.”

He cocked his head to the side, a definite expression of amused surprise on his visage. “You do?”

Instinctively, she knew he’d expected her to turn him down. If kissing him meant obtaining the funds to get the gazette up and running, she would do what she must, to a point. Besides, what harm was there in a quick kiss?

“Yes, I do.”

She’d only ever been kissed once before, when she was eighteen and at her first official ball as a debutante. It had been a spectacular disaster. A press of sloppy, wet lips against her own that had lasted for but a few horrid seconds, and in the end had turned out to be nothing more than a dare a young gentleman had taken to kiss the Duke of Beresford’s lame daughter. Livie had mostly lost all interest in kissing anyone after that.

Until now.

Now there was something so wickedly thrilling about the thought of kissing Sebastian Colver that she was hard-pressed to keep her anticipation from showing. Because, somehow, she knew that his kiss would be neither wet nor sloppy. And for reasons she couldn’t understand, her body seemed to be craving his touch.

“Then let us seal our bargain,” he replied. “But for the sake of there being honesty between us, I would have you know that once I claim something as mine, I never let it go.”

“You may be agreeing to fund the gazette, Mr. Colver, but it is not yours.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t talking about the gazette, Lady Olivia.”

Then, before she knew what he was about, his hands circled her waist and he lifted her over onto his lap. She gasped at the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest and was lost when his mouth descended upon her own.

His lips were firm but tender, slowly coaxing her to open for him. The stubble of his chin rubbed gently against her skin, rough but oh so thrilling, too. She couldn’t help a soft moan from escaping her mouth as a sensation of wanton wickedness stole through her. Then, when his tongue began to gently tease her own, she was lost, every single inch of her body vibrating with desire.

His kiss was hot, heavy, and demanding. Nothing about it either wet or sloppy. This was a kiss from a man who knew what he was about. And Livie wanted more, so much more.

The carriage coming to an abrupt halt jolted them both, and she scrambled to get off him. Deftly, Sebastian lifted her across to her seat and pressed the contract into her hand.

“We’re partners now, my lady.” His voice was a low rumble against her ear as he reached for the door handle. “Let’s hope you don’t regret it.” He vaulted out of the carriage, then turned back toward her.

She took his proffered hand and he assisted her to the ground. “I shan’t, but you might.”

He chuckled, a low, deep rumble in his chest, and closed the door behind her. “One can only hope, Livie…”

Gregson bustled down from his perch. “I brought us round the back, m’lady, so as you wouldn’t be seen.”

“As always, I am grateful for your foresight, Gregson.” She glanced past Sebastian to smile at him.

“Will you be all right getting in, m’lady, while I take the carriage and horses to the carriage house?” He glared rather suspiciously over at Sebastian.

“I shall be fine,” she assured him.

He nodded before returning to his perch and setting the carriage off down the laneway.

Livie turned back to Sebastian, who was staring at her intently.

They simply stood there in the empty street at the back of her family’s town house, their eyes locked upon each other for what felt like an eternity, but in reality must have been only a few seconds. Sebastian leaned in toward her again and drew in a deep breath.

“You smell of roses and cinnamon…” He sounded intrigued and baffled at once. “I must admit I’ve never met a lady like you before.”

Livie gulped. She was finding it hard to breathe with him so near. His scent engulfed her, to the point where all she wanted to do was bury her head in his chest and breathe him in, too. Or have him kiss her again. “I’m no different from other ladies. Well, except for my limp…” That actually did make her different, especially in men’s eyes. To them, she was damaged, which meant she was unacceptable, as she couldn’t be a perfect wife, having need of a cane to hobble around with.

“If people judge you on your limp, then they are fools,” he said, pulling back from her to stare intently into her eyes. “Your limp doesn’t define you, unless you allow it.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” He was able-bodied, with no hindrance to his movements, whereas Livie couldn’t go anywhere without her cane to assist. All her limp was, was a complete and utter burden and a constant reminder she was responsible for her mother’s death.

“You’re not the only one who others judge, Livie,” Sebastian replied, taking a step back from her. “The number of stares and whispers I get when people see the scar on my face are endless. And then when they hear who I am, their disgust turns to terror.” He laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. “So I do, in fact, understand exactly what it is to have people judge. But instead of being affected by it, I chose to be empowered by it. To use my scar and reputation to my advantage.”

Embarrassment flooded through her, and her fervent wish right then was for the ground to open and for her to be swallowed whole. Of course, he would know the maliciousness of others firsthand. To suggest she was the only one to understand the

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