His eyes glittered with amusement, as thoughThe lady doth protest too much, methinkswas on the tip of his tongue.
“Don’t you dare say a word,” she muttered. “Walk away while we both still can.”
He tucked the thick sheaf of papers under one muscular arm and held out the other elbow. “Aren’t we going in the same direction? I have to infiltrate a monastery within the hour, but if you’d rather not join our next planning session…”
She grabbed his arm as if he were saving her from drowning. Not because she wanted to touch him again. She was almost completely over that unquenchable impulse. But mostly because finding hercousin was her highest priority, which meant being on hand to hear any news or craft any strategies.
He handed her the stack of papers. “You’ll have to hold these.”
She frowned up at him. “Nobody has to hold them. They’ll be fine lying between us in the carriage.”
He grinned. “I didn’t bring a carriage.”
“What—” She followed him out the front door to discover a lone gray horse tied to an iron post. “You didn’t even bring asaddle?”
“Be glad I didn’t, or we wouldn’t both fit. Do you want to grab onto me from behind, or do you want to sit on my lap?”
Her face was on fire. Her entire body was on fire. Should she slap him now, or after she ravished him atop his stallion?
“Behind you,” she said swiftly. That had to be safest. She could hide her burning face and all the rest of her body. As she pressed herself tightly against him. Nipples and thighs and all. Purely for safety’s sake.
Soon, the wind whipped past them as Jacob flew through the cobblestone streets. Her notebook and the jumbled plays were safe in a leather satchel, the long strap of which looped across her torso. A torso that would have been glued against his back, if her ankle-length skirts hadn’t prevented her from riding astride.
Viv would be lying if she denied that a large part of her wished to channel Lady Godiva, and ride this horse naked—if it meant pressing her body more fully against Jacob’s.
God help her, she was smitten.
This morning’s breakfast had been the first time in Viv’s adult life that someone had helped her, unasked, without expecting her to do something for them in return.
Even the one great kindness of her youth had not been without strings attached. After Aunt Kamia abandoned an orphaned ten-year-old girl to suffer the rest of her life in slavery, Viv’s aunt had finallyrescued her from that horrid plantation… in exchange for a different kind of servitude.
Jacob’s kindnesses were given freely. The only thing he wanted was to make her happy. Viv had no idea how to respond to that.
And Lord knew, she wouldn’t erase the kiss they’d shared for anything.
The horse soon slowed to a stop.
“We’re here,” Jacob said cheerfully.
Viv wasn’t sure if this was good news or bad news. The end of the ride meant she no longer had an excuse to press her cheek against his warm back and wrap her arms tightly around his chiseled stomach. At least, she imagined it was chiseled. He was wearing too many layers of clothing for her to have been able to execute a subtle investigation to her satisfaction.
She lifted her head and peeled her arms from his abdomen.
He slipped down from the horse without dislodging her in the slightest and held out his hands. “Can you descend on your own, or would you like me to catch you?”
Both. Viv could jump from heights much higher than this and land on her feet, but she’d be damned if she’d waste an opportunity to have Jacob’s hands on her body again.
As he lowered her to the ground with care, hoofbeats thundered up behind them.
She glanced over her shoulder just as a messenger on horseback pulled to a stop beside Jacob.
“Letter for the Wynchester family,” said the lad.
Jacob held out his hand. “I’m a Wynchester.”
“Note thatheis using a saddle,” Viv whispered behind her hand.
Jacob’s eyes sparkled. “You liked the ride.”
