For a foolish moment, it seemed to Hélène that they were suspended in time. There were droplets of rain in Eddy’s lashes, trailing down his jaw, on the corner of his lower lip: which, on closer inspection, was full and sensuous.
Then Eddy lifted her into the saddle, and Hélène arranged herself on his massive horse with both legs to one side. The moment she sat back, she winced. It wasn’t easy trying to ridesidesaddle under the best of circumstances, with a proper saddle, and now with her swollen ankle…
“Don’t ride sidesaddle on my account,” Eddy observed. “It looks painful, especially with your injury.”
He was right, of course; her right ankle was pressed against the tooled leather of his saddle in an unnatural position. “Are you suggesting that I ride astride?” She tried to sound horrified at the suggestion.
A smile tugged at the corner of Eddy’s mouth. “I saw you earlier.”
Well, there was no use playing coy. Hélène tucked her skirts up around her knees and swung her right leg over the side of his horse. Her ankle felt so much better that an involuntary moan of relief escaped her lips.
Eddy looked over with curiosity, and something that might have been interest. Hélène bit her lip. That moan had been too raw, too intimate a sound for a lady—the sort of sound that Hélène used to make with Laurent, when their bodies had been wound together. It wasn’t the sort of sound a well-bred girl should even knowhowto make.
As he looped her horse’s reins around a branch, she frowned. “Are you sure we should leave Odette here?”
“We’ll send the grooms back for her. Right now we need to get you home. You’re shivering.”
“It’s too far for you to walk,” she said dubiously, and Eddy barked out a laugh.
“I’m not walking. I’m riding with you.”
Hélène spluttered. “You can’t—I wasn’t—”
Eddy hooked a foot into the stirrup and vaulted up behind her, looping an arm around her torso to pull her against him. “Ready?”
When Hélène nodded, he nudged his horse into a slow canter. Hélène tried not to think about the feel of his thighs behind her, shifting against the leather of the saddle as he guided Ares down the forest path.
“What is it?” he asked, after a few minutes.
She whipped her head around, and Eddy’s lips grazed her wet curls with the movement.Mon dieu.This entire situation was woefully indecorous, even for Hélène: worse than what she’d done with Laurent, in some ways, because Eddy was the future king. And she was currently touching him in so many places—his long lean thigh pressed against the length of hers, her buttocks flush against his groin, the back of her head tucked beneath his chin as if they were lovers.
When she said nothing, he jerked his head in the direction of Sheen House. “I’ll drop you near your stables, if you think you can manage to get inside.”
“Hopping on one leg?” Hélène asked, though she understood what he meant. No one could know they had been out here, alone, together.
Eddy was clearly fighting to keep the laugh from his voice. “They might believe you made it all this way on your own. I get the sense that you’re rather stubborn.”
Hélène’s traitorous body was softening in response to him. There was something disarmingly nice about this sensation—feeling like she was cocooned in a warm, steady strength. Like she was safe.
It was just the feeling of beingheld,Hélène reminded herself. She’d certainly felt it often enough with Laurent. Before he abandoned her.
“What were you doing out here, anyway?” She meant itas a question, but she was hurt and irritable and it came out like an accusation.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Prince Eddy replied.
“Ilivehere.”
His hands tightened on the reins. “Richmond Park is a royal hunting ground, so I have as much right to be here as you do.”
“I haven’t seen you riding here before.”
“I have a lot of royal hunting grounds to choose from.”
Hélène stiffened. Just when she’d thought that Eddy might not be as arrogant as she’d assumed, he had to make an entitled comment and confirm all her worst suspicions.
“And you came out here alone?” She waved a hand to indicate his surprising lack of groom or attendant. “I thought princes always traveled with an entourage.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience. Have you met a great number of princes?”
