He couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms and agreeing with a kiss so heated it left them both groaning. As he pressed her back against one of the posts, he deftly removed the pins holding her hat in place, swept it off her head, and tossed it aside. Nuzzling her throat, he took great pleasure in filling both his hands with her fine, round rump and pulling her tighter against him so she might feel the effect she had on him. “Are you not interested in riding, my swan?”
She worked her hips, molding her softness along his hardened ridge. “I am indeed interested in riding. Shall we not avail ourselves of that empty bench in the stall?” She slid her hands down his back and hugged him closer. “And then, after that delicious ride, if we are so inclined, we can continue on to the park to pursue the more usual definition of the word.” She caught his earlobe between her teeth and drove him mad by gently sucking on it before whispering, “Forgive me if I am too brazen, but it is your fault. You made me drunk with pleasureon our wedding day, and now that I have decided to giveusa chance, I thirst for that drunkenness again.”
He stretched tall and peered across the tops of the stalls, searching for any sign of the head groom or other stable hands. Oddly enough, all seemed quiet and deserted except for the animals. Perhaps the men had paused in their labors to go and eat. After all, it was nearly time for their midday meal. Satisfied they wouldn’t be disturbed, he bent his head and nibbled his way along her jawline while untying her cravat and unbuttoning her jacket. “My only regret is that we shall be unable to divest ourselves of all our clothing. I so love the feel of your skin against mine.”
“And my skirts are so dreadfully long for modesty’s sake,” she murmured with a breathlessness that urged him on. Then she trembled with a mischievous giggle.
He lifted his head, smiling at her sudden merriment. “My lady?”
Her expression turned wonderfully wicked. “If you conquer the incredible yardage of my riding skirts, you will find nothing but skin underneath. That is—if you are so inclined.”
“I am indeed so inclined.” He swept her into the empty stall, undid his falls, then lowered himself to a handy bench left there by a groom. Ablaze with yearning and determination, he rucked up her skirts and smoothed his hands up the outside of her warm, silky thighs as she straddled him.
Holding tight to his shoulders, she wiggled downward and fully engulfed him while treating him to a delighted moan. “Wonderful,” she breathed, then took his mouth with a hunger that threatened to make him spill himself entirely too soon. She moaned again and started rocking her hips with the perfect rhythm.
“Exemplary riding form,” he rasped as he nibbled and kissed the delightful mounds of her breasts swelling above her corset.
“What?” She gave a shudder that warned him she was close to her bliss.
“Harder, my love. Ride harder and gallop to your pleasure.”
“Oh yes!” She gave a gasping cry that pushed him past his limit. He rose and took her up against the wall, pounding into her with all the passion and fury she stirred within him. The side of the stall creaked and groaned as though about to give way. He didn’t care. He drove harder, growling as she sank her teeth into his jacket, drowning her shout in the cloth. With a roaring thrust, he locked in and stayed, suspending them both in time as he emptied and she filled.
“Who is there?” someone bellowed from the front of the stable. “Answer, or you’ll be going to his lordship on the end of me pitchfork!”
“It is all right, Mr. Wallace,” Sophie called out, in a somewhat strained and breathless voice. “His lordship and I are going for a ride.” She lost what little control she had mustered, erupting into a series of giggling snorts and rendering herself unable to speak further.
“All is well, Mr. Wallace,” Nash said, struggling to sound authoritative rather than well bedded and looking forward to another tumble in the hay. “Go about your business. Lady Sophie and I can tend to our mounts.”
“Aye, well, take care, my lord. That man what shot at the house had another one with him. We’ve yet to find that seedy cove, but we been a searching for him. I grant you that.”
“Why are we just now hearing about this?” Sophie whispered while still pinned against the side of the stall.
“Let us sort ourselves and find out.” As much as he hated to end their passionatetête-à-tête, he gave her a reluctant kiss, then withdrew and eased her feet to the ground. As she shook out her skirts, he suddenly realized that while caught up in thethroes of their delights, he had forgotten about her injured back. “Bloody hell! Are you all right, Sophie?”
She eyed him as if he had lost all reason. “Of course I am all right. What on earth are you fussing about?”
“Your back? Hammered against those boards. Shall I send for Dr. MacMaddenly?”
“You most certainly shall not. I told you I am quite hearty, and I meant it. Now, stop being silly.”
“I am never silly. Not when it comes to being concerned about your wellbeing.”
“Hmmpf.”
“And what does that mean?”
She rolled her eyes. “It means you should go and speak with Mr. Wallace while I finish tidying up.” Her wicked smile returned. “You still owe me a ride, my lord.”
“Several, my lady.” Nash cleared his throat, adjusted the front of his pantaloons, and straightened his waistcoat and jacket with a jerk. “I shall see what Mr. Wallace can tell us.”
He found the man at the front of the stable, sitting on a short stool, sharing his meat pie with the trio of kittens and their mother. “Perhaps Cook should make the meat pies larger, Mr. Wallace, so you do not go wanting while feeding your friends there.”
The grizzled old man grinned as he held out a tidbit to the mother cat, and she ate it from his hand. “Aww…I don’t mind none. This here girl is the best ratter in all of London.” He nodded at the largest of the three kittens. “And that one there done caught him a mouse in the feed the other day. Takes after his mum, he does.”
“Perhaps they deserve a meat pie all their own as a reward. Tell Cook I said so. A meat pie a day to keep the rats away.” Besides, Sophie loved the kittens. Nash knew she wouldapprove. “You said there was another man with the assassin we captured. Why did you not mention it earlier?”
Mr. Wallace, the head groom, shifted uneasily on the stool and shook his head. “Because the bastard got away. Shamed me, it did. I used to be a fair enough guard for the mistresses of the house while keeping their favorite horses healthy, and now look at me. One snuck up the garden wall and hurt Lady Sophie and the other shot at her.” He hung his head and set the rest of the meat pie on the ground for the cats. “I should be let go, I should. But I am that sorry, my lord.”
