" You’re the only person who doesn’t see the advantage in such a match.”
“That’s because I don’t believe in marriages of convenience. Given your family’s history, I’d think that you wouldn’t either.”
She colored. “And why do assume it would be such a thing? Is it so hard to believe that a man might genuinely care for me? That he might actually want to marry me for myself?”
“Why would anyone wish to marry the reckless Lady Celia, after all,” she went on in a choked voice, “if not for her fortune or to shore up his reputation?”
“I didn’t mean any such thing,” he said sharply.
But she’d worked herself up into a fine temper. “Of course you did. You kissed me last night only to make a point, and you couldn’t even bear to kiss me properly again today-“
“Now see here,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “I didn’t kiss you ‘properly’ today because I was afraid if I did I might not stop.”
That seemed to draw her up short. “Wh-What?”
Sweet God, he shouldn’t have said that, but he couldn’t let her go on thinking she was some sort of pariah around men. “I knew that if I got his close, and I put my mouth on yours…”
But now he was this close. And she was staring up at him with that mix of bewilderment and hurt pride, and he couldn’t help himself. Not anymore.
He kissed her, to show her what she seemed blind to. That he wanted her. That even knowing it was wrong and could never work, he wanted to have her.
She tore her lips from his. “Mr. Pinter-“ she began in a whisper.
“Jackson,” he growled. “Let me hear you say my name.”
Backing away from him, she cast him a wounded expression. “Y-you don’t have to pretend-“
“I’m not pretending anything, damn it!”
Grabbing her by the sleeves, he dragged her close and kissed her again, with even more heat. How could she not see that he ached to take her? How could she not know what a temptation she was? Her lips intoxicated him, made him light-headed. Made him reckless enough to kiss her so impudently that any other woman of her rank would be insulted.
When she pulled away a second time, he expected her to slap him. But all she did was utter a feeble protest. “Please, Mr. Pinter-“
“Jackson,” he ordered in a low, unsteady voice, emboldened by the melting look in her eyes. “Say my Christian name.”
Her lush dark lashes lowered as a blush stained her cheeks. “Jackson…”
His breath caught in his throat at the intimacy of it, and fire exploded in his brain. She wasn’t pushing him away, so to hell with trying to be a gentleman.
He took her mouth savagely this time, plundering every part of its silky warmth as his blood pulsed high in his veins. She tasted of red wine and lemon cake, both tart and sweet at once. He wanted to eat her up. He wanted to take her, right here in this room.
So when she pulled out of his arms to back away, he walked after her.
She didn’t stop backing away, but neither did she turn tail and run. “Last night you claimed this wouldn’t happen again.”
“I know. And yet it has.” Like someone in an opium den, he’d been craving her for months. And how that he’d suddenly had a taste of the very thing he craved, he had to have more.
When she came up against the writing table, he caught her about the waist. She turned her head away before he could kiss her, so he settled for burying his face in her neck to nuzzle the tender throat he’d been coveting.
With a shiver, she slid her hands up his chest. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you,” he admitted, damning himself. “Because I’ve always wanted you.”
Then he covered her mouth with his once more. "

― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)