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Lord Bromwell studied Nell in a way that sent the blood throbbing through her body as even the tipping coach had not.

“I believe I am undamaged. I wonder…?”

“Yes?”

“I wonder if I should attempt an experiment….”

“Experiment?” Nell repeated quizzically, having some difficulty following Lord Bromwell’s line of reasoning and, at that particular moment, not really sure what an experiment was.

With no further warning, without even knowing her name, let alone being properly introduced, the gentleman raised his head.

And kissed her.

The pressure of his lips was as light and beguiling as the brush of a moth’s wing, as delicious and welcome as warm bread and hot tea on a cold day, and more arousing than anything she’d ever experienced….

The Viscount’s Kiss

Harlequin^® Historical