me escort you back to Cannon Manor.”
The sensuous caress of his voice sent a shudder through her.
Yes.
Her body all but screamed it. Every inch of her seemed enlivened so that even the air gliding over her skin inflamed.
She needed to ride once more, to relieve the energy pent up within her. Frantic for some release from the spell woven around her, she glanced around for the earl’s horse.
“Your mount, my lord?”
“I don’t have one, Miss Hannah. I’m on foot. But you wouldn’t leave me stranded here, would you?”
Her hands tightened on the reins. “I might.”
“Forcing me to walk all the way back to Thistledown in this stifling heat? What if I were to overheat? Go into convulsions or the vapors?” A melodramatic hand wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and Grace couldn’t stop the little smile that pulled at her lips.
“For an aspiring smuggler you’re not very hardy, my lord.”
“Again you wound me, fair lady! Striking at the heart of my manhood!”
This time she laughed, unable to keep the sound at bay when he clutched at his heart.
“You must rescue me, Miss Hannah. Carry me to the safety of Thistledown where my wounds may be ministered to.” His dramatic expression turned wily. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of my sort of excitement?”
She sucked in a breath. It was a challenge. Did she dare? He’d know that she was riding astride—if he didn’t already, given the lack of a slipper stirrup. It would be the most improper position, together on a horse. What if someone saw them?
The earl remained beside the stallion, his gazed fixated on her. The calculating look had returned to his eyes and she knew he was after something. Still, she couldn’t ride away without answering his challenge.
“Very well, my lord.” She tossed her head. “Mount.”
She moved forward on the saddle as far as possible, grateful for the high pommel of her uncle’s out-of-date saddle as she hooked her knee around it. The earl placed a foot in the stirrup. A moment later he was seated behind her in the saddle.
Demon danced sideways at the additional weight and she focused on controlling the uneasy stallion. Even as she fought to calm the animal, a part of her was focused on the earl. There was barely enough room for them both and Grace could feel the heat from his chest against her back. His hands circled her waist, resting there as she calmed Demon.
The earl leaned forward and murmured in her ear, “There would be more room if you rode astride. I won’t tell and I promise not to look at your ankles—even though I’ll be tempted.” His husky voice echoed through her, the dare heating her blood.
Oh, dear God, please let no one see me
, she prayed.
She hitched up the skirts of her simple gown and swung her leg over the horse’s broad back. She knew her ankles and calves were exposed. She didn’t care.
She slid forward until her front pressed against the pommel of the saddle. Even with the additional space, they were fitted together in the same position. She could feel him pressed intimately against her backside, his hard, muscular thighs aligned with hers. The earl’s strong hands curled around her waist as a steadying hold, fingers splayed across her belly. Over it all was the knowledge that her legs were opened wide, with his body straddling hers.
The earl leaned forward once more, hot breath tickling her ear. “Ride,” he commanded.
She didn’t hesitate. The thrill of the adventure drove her forward as she spurred the horse.
They flew across the fallow field, both Grace and the earl bent low across the saddle, bodies nearly united as they moved in tandem with the rhythm of the horse. Limb brushed limb and the heat from their bodies mingled. The earl’s fingers gripped her waist, digging into the pliant skin beneath the light cotton. Wind whipped around and between them, pulling at Grace’s hair and whistling in her ears.
A low hedgerow appeared before them. Without even a
The sensuous caress of his voice sent a shudder through her.
Yes.
Her body all but screamed it. Every inch of her seemed enlivened so that even the air gliding over her skin inflamed.
She needed to ride once more, to relieve the energy pent up within her. Frantic for some release from the spell woven around her, she glanced around for the earl’s horse.
“Your mount, my lord?”
“I don’t have one, Miss Hannah. I’m on foot. But you wouldn’t leave me stranded here, would you?”
Her hands tightened on the reins. “I might.”
“Forcing me to walk all the way back to Thistledown in this stifling heat? What if I were to overheat? Go into convulsions or the vapors?” A melodramatic hand wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and Grace couldn’t stop the little smile that pulled at her lips.
“For an aspiring smuggler you’re not very hardy, my lord.”
“Again you wound me, fair lady! Striking at the heart of my manhood!”
This time she laughed, unable to keep the sound at bay when he clutched at his heart.
“You must rescue me, Miss Hannah. Carry me to the safety of Thistledown where my wounds may be ministered to.” His dramatic expression turned wily. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of my sort of excitement?”
She sucked in a breath. It was a challenge. Did she dare? He’d know that she was riding astride—if he didn’t already, given the lack of a slipper stirrup. It would be the most improper position, together on a horse. What if someone saw them?
The earl remained beside the stallion, his gazed fixated on her. The calculating look had returned to his eyes and she knew he was after something. Still, she couldn’t ride away without answering his challenge.
“Very well, my lord.” She tossed her head. “Mount.”
She moved forward on the saddle as far as possible, grateful for the high pommel of her uncle’s out-of-date saddle as she hooked her knee around it. The earl placed a foot in the stirrup. A moment later he was seated behind her in the saddle.
Demon danced sideways at the additional weight and she focused on controlling the uneasy stallion. Even as she fought to calm the animal, a part of her was focused on the earl. There was barely enough room for them both and Grace could feel the heat from his chest against her back. His hands circled her waist, resting there as she calmed Demon.
The earl leaned forward and murmured in her ear, “There would be more room if you rode astride. I won’t tell and I promise not to look at your ankles—even though I’ll be tempted.” His husky voice echoed through her, the dare heating her blood.
Oh, dear God, please let no one see me
, she prayed.
She hitched up the skirts of her simple gown and swung her leg over the horse’s broad back. She knew her ankles and calves were exposed. She didn’t care.
She slid forward until her front pressed against the pommel of the saddle. Even with the additional space, they were fitted together in the same position. She could feel him pressed intimately against her backside, his hard, muscular thighs aligned with hers. The earl’s strong hands curled around her waist as a steadying hold, fingers splayed across her belly. Over it all was the knowledge that her legs were opened wide, with his body straddling hers.
The earl leaned forward once more, hot breath tickling her ear. “Ride,” he commanded.
She didn’t hesitate. The thrill of the adventure drove her forward as she spurred the horse.
They flew across the fallow field, both Grace and the earl bent low across the saddle, bodies nearly united as they moved in tandem with the rhythm of the horse. Limb brushed limb and the heat from their bodies mingled. The earl’s fingers gripped her waist, digging into the pliant skin beneath the light cotton. Wind whipped around and between them, pulling at Grace’s hair and whistling in her ears.
A low hedgerow appeared before them. Without even a
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