Egad, she meant to kiss him! Was this how things were done in America? The only other American he'd ever met was Elizabeth, and he couldn't deny she possessed a forthright, friendly manner, although not quite this forthright. Still, he didn't want to hurt Mrs. Brown's feelings by rebuffing her very un-British greeting.

Lowering his head, he brushed his lips over her mouth. And everything in him stilled. For the space of several heartbeats, he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything save stare down into her shocked eyes while two impossible words pounded through his brain.

At last.

A frown yanked his brows downward, and he stepped back from her as if she'd turned into a pillar of fire. At last? Bloody hell, he'd gone mad. The next stop for him was Bedlam.

Two bright crimson spots stained her cheeks. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked in a voice that trembled with unmistakable outrage.

Now he'd done it. Whatever she'd been about, clearly she hadn't intended for him to kiss her. And he wished to hell he hadn't. His mouth still tingled with the hint of her taste, and he barely resisted the almost overwhelming urge to lick his lips. Or lean down and lick hers.

Undeniably unsettled, his gaze roamed her face, taking in her becoming blush, the dark lashes surrounding her golden-brown eyes, the pert nose painted by a smattering of pale freckles, the dimple gracing her chin, and then her mouth… such a lovely, plump mouth. Moist, deliciously pink, the bottom lip lusciously full, and the top lip, impossibly, even fuller.

Good God, what sort of cad was he to entertain even the hint of a lustful thought toward her? The woman was in mourning. Not that he'd had a lustful thought. Certainly not. That inexplicable tingle he'd felt had merely been… surprise. Yes, that's all it was. She'd surprised him. And that jolt he'd felt? Nothing more than embarrassment. Yes, he'd simply made an ass of himself. Not the first time, and unfortunately, most likely not the last.