His expression eased as the edges of his mouth curled, and he climbed onboard. “I would expect no less,” he said gathering her in his arms.
Her limbs trembling, she leaned into the safety of his embrace. “I thought…I thought I would…”
“You are safe.” He held her longer than he should, longer than was proper. She didn’t care. She clung to him until the trembling ended and a new, unexpected sensation took its place. Desire. Passion.
He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. Warmly and tenderly he whispered, “You take my breath away.”
She smiled against his lips. “Then you weren’t really angry with me?”
“I was furious. Furious that you were in danger. Furious with myself that you were unprotected and that I was not here to save you.”
“I am perfectly capable of saving myself, Your Grace.”
He kissed her eyelids in turn, sending a surge of heat through her blood that threatened to ignite her in flames. She gasped, and as she did, he captured her mouth, deepened the kiss, and pulled her against him.
The world slipped away. Gone was her fear, vanquished by the touch of his hand on the small of her back and the way it moved to cup her breast. She gasped again. Her skin was on fire. She threaded her hands through his hair and pressed against him, wanting him closer.
He moaned, drew away, resting his forehead against hers. “We cannot,” he said, his voice deep with passion. He opened his eyes, mirroring her own desire. They raked over her as his eyes grew wider.
“What are you wearing” he said, his breath labored as his expression heated. “My God! You are beauty itself.”
She followed his gaze. Her chemise clung to her skin as transparent as the air she breathed. It molded against her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. It formed around her breasts as her nipples, pink and hard pressed against the fabric, as though aching for a man’s touch.
He took in a ragged breath, removed his greatcoat, and spun it around her shoulders, pulling it around to cover her. “We must stop. Help me stop.
She lifted her gaze, drank in the desire reflected in his eyes that matched her own. He was correct. Her breathing, as ragged as his, took time to quiet. She nodded, took in a shallow breath of air and nodded again as her eyes misted. “I thought I was going to die, and then I saw you.”
He wiped away a tear before it fell over her skin, and his lips parted as he kissed her forehead. “And yet you still bravely tried to avert the crash of a runaway carriage.”
She held her hands laced in her lap, tearing her gaze from his lips and from the need to know how they would feel caressing her bare skin. “Someone killed our driver,” she sniffled.
His expression darkened, glancing toward the forest as though searching for something or someone. “We cannot stay here. I heard the shot. I had gone to the caravan and heard that your carriage had taken another route. I was not sure I would reach you in time.” He lifted her chin. “If something had happened to you…”
“It did not.”
“But if it had? Madeline…”
A thumping sound came from inside the carriage.
He lifted his eyebrow. “Elizabeth?”
Madeline smiled with a nod. “She will not be pleased that we waited so long to free her.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. “Elizabeth will have to wait a moment longer.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Horses’ hooves thundered over the snow-packed road, their riders emerging from the ink-black night like avenging angels.
Madeline shuddered, sinking deeper into his embrace. “Who…who is coming?”
Robert heard the fear in her voice and smoothed the hair from her forehead. “Jeremy,” he said simply, and felt her take in a deep breath as she relaxed against him. He thought of her now as Madeline. Calling her Miss Mercer would not do. Too much had transpired between them. And yet, propriety dictated that he ask for her permission.
Pondering why he felt so conflicted, he kept her locked in his arms as Jeremy and a contingent of men surrounded the halted carriage.
As Jeremy approached, he cast a glance toward Robert, taking in that he held Madeline. For a brief moment, the shadow of a smile drifted over his mouth, evidence that he had indeed witnessed Robert and Madeline together.
He cleared his throat. “We found the body of the driver. I sent men to track down the shooter. We suspect Devonshire. Why would he kill the driver? He would know that would cause the carriage to run out of control, killing those inside.”
