“I shall answer yours if you answer mine.”
“I did answer your question.”
“Nay, you did not,” she moved toward him, gesturing to his destrier. “You are loaded for travel, Sir Alec. Are you going on a journey?”
He sighed heavily and moved for the stump Peyton had occupied. Gracefully, he lowered his huge frame upon it. Peyton was a mere foot or so in front of him, a curious twinkle in her eye. He met her gaze, thinking her to be an incredibly lovely creature.
“Aye, I was traveling. A short respite. Now….”
“Where were you going?”
His brow furrowed. “Are you always so prying?”
“Always. Tell me or I shall haunt you forever.”
He made a wry face. “God help me, I believe you. Very well, then. I was traveling north to visit relatives.”
“Is that so?” she looked interested. “Where north?”
He shook his head at her nosy nature. “North. North of Durham, to a keep called Northwood. ’Tis where I fostered. Now answer my question or I shall take you over my knee.”
To his surprise, she smiled. He was absolutely enchanted; straight white teeth, slightly prominent canines, set in a bow-shaped mouth. Aye, she was utterly beautiful when she smiled and he felt a strange warmth settle in his limbs.
“Did not your father send you and the soldiers to find me?”
“And I thought those soldiers were looking for me,” he muttered to himself, and then turned to Peyton with a raised brow. “’Twas unwise to run away, my lady. You only delay the inevitable and risk provoking my father’s wrath.”
“Who says I ran?” she said innocently. “Who is to say that I wasn’t simply out walking, enjoying the morning, and got lost?”
“You are nearly to St. Cloven. A most exhausting morning constitutional.”
“I like to walk,” she insisted, averting her gaze coyly. “I could walk all the way to London if I so choose.”
He absorbed the flirtatious lowering of lashes, smiling faintly in spite of himself. “That may be. But you put me in a most awkward position. I was not planning on returning to Blackstone, yet I cannot leave you out here on your own.”
“Surely you can, my lord,” she insisted. “Simply point me out of these hellish woods and I shall be on my way.”
“I think not,” he reached out and grabbed her arm, whipping her into a most intimate position between his thick legs. Standing her full height, she was exactly level with him where he sat. Their eyes, sapphire blue flame to smoldering white-blue, riveted to each other as if somehow physically attached.
Peyton knew she should pull away from him but she couldn’t seem to manage the effort. His huge hands gripped her arms and scalded her tender skin. His touch was vibrant, his gaze consuming, and a strange liquid heat flooded her limbs. She could feel his hot breath on her face.
“Tell me why you hate marriage so and I will take it into consideration when I decide what to do with you,” his voice was oddly hoarse.
She swallowed, feeling as if his eyes were somehow molesting her. “What todowith me? What do you…?
He shook her gently, stopping her words. “Tell me.”
“But….”
“Tell me!”
She had no choice and found herself choking on her answer. “I do not hate marriage. I just…. that is to say, I simply do not wish to be married yet. I have no desire for a husband at the moment.”
She felt his grip relax. “So you do not hate marriage in general, but you feel that you are not ready for a husband. Is that correct?”
She shrugged uncertainly. “Aye, sort of…. and not knowing who your father has in mind as my prospective husband, I am intent on discouraging him as long as I can.”
Alec’s grip relaxed further but he did not let her go. He rather liked the feel of her. “And you are frightened?”
