“Not at all, my dear.” His eyes darkened. He caressed her cheek again. “I wouldn’t jest about that.” He traced a path down her throat, stopping at the first fastener on her high-necked riding habit. “Bloody hell, you’re always over-buttoned.”
Victoria laughed at his frustrated observation, partially to dispel the troubling surge of want swirling through her. “It’s the first stare of fashion, you know.”
“Fashion should think a bit more about a man who wants to debauch his wife,” he grumbled, unhooking the top button from its mooring. “There we are. Only eight hundred more to go.”
“Pembroke,” she protested, scandalized that he was beginning to disrobe her in the middle of the day, in the open air.
“I’m back to Pembroke, am I?” He continued opening her bodice. “I shall have to remedy that.”
Taking a fortifying breath, she forced herself to look over his shoulder. His horse was starting to wander. It presented the perfect excuse to regain her ability to resist him. “You may want to tether our horses first. I’m certain mine won’t travel too far from her meal, but yours is another matter entirely.”
“Damn.” Wearing an aggrieved look, he released her and strode after his horse.
Victoria deemed it best to undo the damage he’d wrought upon her smart wardrobe. Quickly, she refastened her bodice. She watched as he secured both horses before turning back to her. The moment was alive with sunshine and possibilities. She had to admit he cut a dashing figure in his riding breeches. He was tall, lean and muscular. The intensity in his eyes made her heart kick up its pace.
He stopped a scant few inches from her, giving her a boyish grin. “Now where were we? You’ve done yourself back up. That’s against the rules.”
She tried not to smile as it would only serve to encourage him. “I wasn’t aware there were any rules involved.”
“Only rules of my making.” He winked.
“You aren’t a fair competitor, my lord.”
He snagged an arm around her waist and dragged her into his hard body. “Is this the first time you’ve become aware of that fact, dearest wife?” He lowered his head, close enough to kiss.
Oh he was tempting her again already, the sinful man. Best to stave him off by any means possible. Her mind fogged. “Perhaps you should tell me what the rules are before I begin playing the game.”
“I must say I’ve always preferred the element of surprise,” he told her before taking her mouth in a crushing kiss.
Her arms wound about his neck of their own volition. She opened for his tongue, reveling in the sensual way he dipped inside her mouth to taste and tease. His hands slid up the small of her back in a possessive brand. Her resolve crumbled as if it were a ship being dashed against a rocky shore. She wanted him, and he knew precisely how to make her give in to her desires.
Victoria pressed closer to him, breathing in his divine scent. She returned his kiss with all the fervor clamoring to life within her. Somehow, it no longer mattered that they’d begun the morning badly. All she could feel was his powerful body, his knowing touch, his claiming kiss.
Dear heavens. What did he do to her?
He broke the kiss at last, making a muted sound in his throat. Her breathing was ragged, her stays cutting into her waist as she struggled to regain her senses. She clung to him, not wanting the embrace to end. He looked down at her, his eyes fierce, sparkling with naked desire.
“I’m beginning to regret I suggested riding instead of merely returning to your chamber.” He sighed. “Let’s take our walk, shall we? If we linger another minute, I fear I’ll take you here in the grass like a common stable boy.”
A mixture of disappointment and relief speared her. She took his proffered arm and started off with him. Thankfully, she’d worn a pair of serviceable boots. Otherwise, her shoes would have been ruined by the uneven, damp ground. At least she could maintain her sanity when he wasn’t kissing her, she reasoned.
“It’s a lovely day,” she murmured, opting for a safer subject. And it truly was. While she’d only grown accustomed to English weather slowly, she was beginning to admire it for its dramatic, often mercurial nature. Everything seemed so much more vibrant, greener, and more alive than New York.
“Fair weather today indeed,” he agreed, his tone light and affable.
One almost wouldn’t guess he had nearly been about to make love to her in the weeds. But Victoria knew, and it still sent a raging fire through her blood. She tried to focus on the scenery, the lush trees and verdant fields. In the distance, sheep grazed in a pastoral setting. The result was quite picturesque, even if she continued to catch herself stealing sidelong glances at her husband’s handsome profile.
“Where are you taking me?” she had to ask. He was guiding her down a path that led into a thick, seemingly ancient copse of trees.
“To the river, my dear.” He patted the hand that rested in the crook of his elbow. “You’ve appallingly little faith in your husband, have you not?”
She bit her lip as she mulled over how to answer that particular question. The truth was that she had faith and yet she did not. Just when she trusted, it seemed she ought not to do so. He was a conundrum indeed.
“On second thought, leave whatever’s rattling about in your pretty head unspoken.” He sighed. “I can tell from your expression that it won’t be anything I’d prefer to hear.”
She cocked her head, considering him as they continued to tramp on. “I won’t say it then.”
“Good.” His grip on her tightened. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
