That would hurt so much more than just going along with the charade.

“My mother thinks I wear too much lace.” Philippa looked down at her gown, then up at Tommy. “What do you think?”

Tommy waggled her brows. “I think I’d be happy to help you take it off.”

Philippa narrowed her eyes. “That’s what Baron Vanderbean would be happy to do. What does Tommy Wynchester think?”

“Everything the baron thinks, but more ardently.”

Philippa stopped walking.

Tommy released Philippa’s arm so that she could face her.

Philippa’s blue eyes met hers. “The baron flirts with a lot of women.”

“He does,” Tommy agreed. “He may have a checkered past as a rakish scoundrel.”

“Is that all it is?” Philippa asked. “Just flirting?”

“He might have a checkered past as an accomplished rakish scoundrel,” Tommy admitted carefully. “But there’s been no one else for him from the moment he glimpsed an absolute angel just over a year ago.”

“A year ago.” Philippa’s gaze fell. “Who is it?”

Did she still doubt the truth?

Tommy could have told Philippa every detail about the first time she’d laid eyes on her, or the first time Tommy had heard Philippa speak and realized how clever she was, or the first time Tommy had heard about Philippa’s charitable endeavors and realized how kind she was, or the first time Tommy had seen Philippa light up with her reading circle and realized how much she valued her friends, and how beloved she was by them in return.

But words were never as good as action.

“I’ll show you who I’ve longed for all this time.” Tommy lifted Philippa’s chin. “Empirically.”

And she lowered her lips to Philippa’s.

19

19

Philippa held herself perfectly still as Tommy’s lips touched hers. Her heart raced fast and wild.

This was what she had wanted. To try. To know.

This was not Philippa’s first kiss, but it was the first time she had wanted a kiss. That alone was enough to turn what she thought she knew about herself upside down. Philippa York didn’t feel passion or desire a lover’s touch.

And yet she’d spent the past week with every inch of her flesh prickling with anticipation for a kiss she’d hoped—yes, she’d definitely hoped—would come.

Tommy’s mouth was soft against hers. Confident, but gentle. As though Tommy wouldn’t go where she wasn’t wanted, but if she was wanted, she had several good ideas of what to do about it.

Philippa felt as though she wasn’t getting a full kiss, but rather the promise of one. The way Gunter’s Tea Shop let her sample a new flavor of ice to decide if she wanted more. And in this case…

The answer was yes. Philippa wanted more.

“Should I stop?” Tommy had lifted her lips, but only barely.