Miss Foxworth's Fate by Sahara Kelly Page B

Philip showed her were fascinating, and he allowed her a peek through Augustus’s telescopes, focusing them for her on the nearby apple orchards. “That’s where we’ll have our lunch, I think, Abby. It’s quiet and shady, and lovely at this time of year.”
    His voice was deep, and he was close behind her, under the pretense of adjusting the telescope. She felt his lips touch her neck. “Although, of course, lunch with you would be lovely any time of year.”
    She shivered, quite noticeably this time. “A nice turn of phrase, Sir Philip.” It came out more as a breathy plea than the polite response she’d intended.
    She cleared her throat, and turned, finding Philip close. Too close. His body heat reached her skin through the light muslin of her gown, and her awareness of him grew by leaps and bounds.
    She licked her lips.
    His eyes lowered to watch her tongue, and she found herself fascinated as the colors within them changed from light blue to a rich, deep hue, shot through with those amazing golden flecks.
    “I find I’m getting hungry, my dear. Luncheon calls, don’t you think?” Philip’s words were quietly seductive, and Abby’s thighs trembled.
    She nodded. There was a large obstruction in her throat making speech difficult, and she confessed to herself that she didn’t want to talk , anyway.
    She wanted other things. She blushed.
    He dropped a light kiss on her lips and turned away. “I’ll grab our basket from the curricle, and meet you on that path there...” He pointed from the window to a lane, which led from the house into the forest beyond which lay the orchards.
    With rather shaky steps, Abby descended the staircase and walked out into the sunshine, finding the path he’d shown her with ease. Her mind, however, was far from easy.
    Mere minutes in Philip’s company had turned her knees to mush, and her body to a needy ache. She knew if he touched her there’d be no going back, and in truth, she wanted none.
    She was almost twenty-three and had found a man who could light her inner fires with just a glance from his eyes or the brush of his hand.
    She was a virgin, yet was awakening to all that a man could offer her in the way of passion and desire. The feelings brought a rush of moisture to her thighs, and she knew her nipples were hardening at the notion of sharing “lunch” with him in the quiet privacy of an orchard glade.
    Her grandmother had been right. She wanted to toss up her skirts and beg Philip to fill her, to make her whole, to touch that needy place that he’d already roused, and teach her what passion really was.
    She was ready.
    And judging from the rather nice bulge in Philip’s snug breeches that showed clearly as he walked towards her, so was he.
    She couldn’t help it. She grinned.
     
    *~~*~~*
     
    Abigail was smiling. Damn. Philip was in trouble now, and he knew it.
    He spared a thought for the contents of the basket he’d had the forethought to demand from Rachel’s cook, and the blanket he’d tossed over his shoulders.
    There was no question in his mind which would get used first.
    He moved to her side, letting her pull the blanket from him and place it over her arm. He took her hand, rejoicing as her fingers curled around his, and together they walked silently along the quiet path, listening to the birds as they sang all around them.
    A sensual awareness was building between them, and Philip could feel it just as surely as the warm sunshine that beat down on his shoulders.
    By the time they reached a leafy glade and she’d spread the blanket tidily on a soft patch of grass, his cock felt ready to explode. He wanted her more than he wanted air to breathe, and he forced himself to remember that she was, as yet, untried.
    A tremor of excitement rumbled through his balls. She would be his. He would be her first. No other man would claim this woman. His woman.
    He stripped off his jacket and tossed his cravat after it, tugging his shirt loose and making himself as