“Why do you believe you are cursed?” he asked gently, whispering so that his voice would not frighten her.
“It is the same thing that happened to my parents. The very thing Ralph feared would happen to me. That is why he does not allow me to travel in any but our own carriage and insists it is examined daily for defects.”
Jeremy frowned at her words. “Well, this was a simple accident. Bert is a careful driver, and as such, no harm came to us when an imperfection in the road assaulted our wheels. No curse. Just a badly maintained road and bright sun getting in his eyes.”
Harriet peeked up; her eyes were filled with frightened tears. Her chin trembled, lips pressed tightly together as though she fought to contain her fear. But it was breaking through. The mild shock had ostensibly unearthed a deep-seated terror. He cursed Ralph for sowing the seeds of it with his paranoia. He felt an overpowering urge to protect her, shelter her. She seemed so fragile in that moment. Unbearably feminine. Intoxicating in her beautiful vulnerability.
Suddenly, she pressed her lips against his. And he was lost.
Thought evaporated like water hitting hot metal. Her kiss began softly but deepened as passion was ignited within her, overtaking the fear. He found himself running his fingers through her silky, dark hair. His touch reached the back of herneck and then stroked the sides of her throat, the fragility he had known he would find there arousing him.
No! We made an agreement that this would not happen, and she already thinks me a rake. I cannot be in a situation where it seems I have taken advantage...
Ending the kiss was the most difficult thing he had ever done. But he managed to put her to arm's length. For a moment, her eyes remained closed and her lips pursed in the act of kissing. Jeremy's resolve almost shattered at that vision of feminine abandon to pleasure. Then her eyelids fluttered.
“Please,” she whispered, “hold me.”
“How can I resist that?” he murmured back.
“I am sorry, I am so frightened, and...”
Jeremy hauled her back into his arms, brushing aside common sense, plans, and agreements alike. The passion she roused in him left no room for reason—fueled now by the vulnerability in her eyes. As he had once abandoned propriety for the reckless thrill of a French mistress at the Chelmsford ball, so he abandoned it again… but this time for her.
His mouth left hers to find the curve of her neck, sweeping her hair aside to taste the skin beneath. She gasped, fingers knotting in his hair, holding him there when he would have moved. Hebit lightly, savoring her, breathing her in until her scent burned through him like strong brandy.
His hand roamed down her back, tracing the narrowing of her waist, gliding over the swell of her hip, and along her thigh. She shivered at the contact—then again when he slid back up. Through her skirts, his fingers followed the lines of her legs, cupping the glorious roundness of her bottom.
She pressed herself to him, her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his chest. Their softness was glorious. He tightened his grip on her derrière, relishing the shudder he felt running through her.
“There's a farm about a mile up the road, Your Grace. I'll take Silver with your permission to make the journey quicker,” Moss said from outside.
“Yes, go, with all speed!” he snapped.
Harriet looked at him with wide eyes and lips parted. Her apple cheeks were aflame. They listened silently for the hoofbeats receding into the distance. He leaned in for another kiss, but she put her finger to his lips.
“No, I am sorry… I should not have asked for this. We had an agreement. We should stick to it, or this arrangement will become very... very complicated.”
He growled in frustration, but she was only voicing his own common sense, and he knew it.
“Then let us get out of this carriage if you are feeling up to it now,” he said harshly.
Harriet looked after him, lips pressed in a thin line. “I said I was sorry. I… I do not know what came over me.”
Jeremy opened the door and pulled himself out before reaching back to help Harriet. The tilt of the carriage was not extreme but enough to make alighting awkward.
“Let it not be said that I tried to take advantage. If anything, it was the opposite,” he remarked as she took his hand.
At that, she released it immediately and then pushed his offer of help aside.
“I was terrified, but rest assured that I will not seek comfort from you again in that way. I will face my own fears. I do not want to compromise you.”
She clambered out without his help, and he stepped down to the ground, suddenly angry.
Now I am the villain? Because I responded to her distress with gallantry? I will not try to be the chivalrous knight again. There will be a gulf between us that shall not be crossed fromthis point on. I will think only of the Winchesters and the El Dorado, my own city of gold.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Why, what a pleasant surprise to see you again, Penhaligon!”
