She polished off the last of her breakfast and ran upstairs to collect her gloves, stylish hat, and reticule, as well as a light wrap on the chance the weather turned cooler. But the mist off the water had already melted away, a sign this was to be another hot, dry summer day.
Once ready, Molly accompanied her downstairs. They both had the same heart-stopping reaction to the sight of Rob leaning against the open doorway, his arms folded across his chest and the sun shining its golden aura upon his hair while he conversed with Simmons. The summer sun had lightened his hair in perfect shadings of wheat amid the dark gold.
As a little boy, his hair had been that lighter hue but was now naturally darkened with maturity. He still looked glorious, especially with that added trace of silver at his temples.
Just a dash.
Hardly noticeable.
But devastating in effect.
“Oh, Molly. It isn’t fair, is it?”
“No, m’lady,” the maid said with a whispered chuckle. “I’m happily married and still would leap into bed with that man if he crooked his finger and bade me forward. But it isn’t me or any other woman he wants. His eyes always devour you.”
Because he had panther eyes.
He turned for the briefest moment and cast Fiona that devouring look.
“We’ll be back in the afternoon,” she said, placing a hand over her stomach as her butterflies began to flutter. “Oh, I should take a moment to ask Mrs. Harris if we need anything from Brighton.”
Her housekeeper insisted that they needed nothing and shooed her off. “Do not think of anything but that impossibly handsome man.”
Even staid, proper Mrs. Harris?
Fiona sighed and joined Rob as he stood beside the carriage. “Did your housekeeper assign us any chores?”
“No, not a one,” she said as he helped her into his impressive ducal conveyance with its embossed lions on the crest.
He settled in the seat across from hers. “Good. Then all we have to think about is us.”
She felt a twinge in her heart and then a rougher twist. However, she forced a smile to hide her ache.
There would never be anus.
But there could be the pretense of it, just for today.
They made idle conversation on the ride to Brighton, their manner casual and friendly, Fiona pretending not to feel the heat and raw craving that thickened the air between them. And what of last night? Could she overlook the ravenous passion between them as they clawed each other in desperation?
She regretted not bringing a fan, for the memory of her wanton behavior was hard to ignore, and she needed cooling off.
Had he noticed her embarrassment? What did he think of last night? Rob was very good at masking his feelings.
She was not.
He sighed. “Fiona, do you want to talk about it? Us. What we did.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No.”
His grin was affectionate as he said, “All right.”
There was an extended silence between them before she groaned and asked, “How was it for you? I mean…how was I? I’m sure you’ve done this with other ladies. But…”
“I was withyou, Fiona.” He leaned forward to place his hand gently over hers. “How else would it be but the best experience of my life?”
She cast him a wry smile. “Good answer.”
He chuckled.
