“Why you saucy piece of baggage!” He pulled the carriage to a halt so that he could brush away as much of the sticky filling as possible. “I suppose you think you are justified, eh?” His accent sounded thicker than it had before. He didn’t seem to be truly angry, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled.
“You’re welcome to use my handkerchief.” She presented it with a sweet smile.
She had his full attention. Now that they were stopped, he stared at her menacingly, and for a moment she wondered if she’d gone too far.
“You’ll pay for this, you know.” A shiver ran down her spine in a combination of anticipation and alarm.
Very deliberately, he scooped some of the filling from his lips and then reached across to her.
“You wouldn’t dare.” But her voice trembled. He was so close she could see the individual hairs that made up his scruffy beard.
“Wouldn’t I?” And then his dimple appeared again. She wasn’t sure if that meant he was only teasing or if it meant he was about to take his revenge. She braced herself just in case it was the latter.
And when his fingertips prodded at her mouth, she had no choice but to part her lips and teeth.
The leather of his gloves dragged along her tongue as she tasted the sweet glaze. She couldn’t break his gaze to save her life.
The decision to travel with him had been unwise, and she ought never to have agreed. She knew better. She’d allowed him to be far too familiar, untoward, even. And yet some part of her sparked to life in his company. A part of her she’d believed no longer existed.
He was exciting, he was charming, he was enchanting.
And he was positively delicious.
Only a few inches separated them.
She dropped her gaze from his eyes to his mouth. What would it feel like to be kissed by this man?
Aubrey wasn’t the sort of person to rub pastry on a total stranger’s face. She knew nothing about him other than that he was French and needed to be in Margate in a few days.
Abruptly straightening her spine, she cleared her throat. “I hope they have rooms to let.” But she no longer felt the same trepidation as when the innkeeper at the Fainting Goat had turned her away. Likely, it wasn’t very prudent, but with Mr. Bateman’s company, she wasn’t quite so afraid.
She could envision that if some highwayman dared to attack them, Mr. Chance Bateman would pull a weapon from his boot and dispatch of the villain with one deadly thrust. And afterward, he might gaze into her eyes again, this time in order to assure himself of her well-being.
Overcome with emotion, he would lower his lips to her mouth and she would not pull away. She would tilt her head back—
“If there’s only one room, you will share it with me, no?”
“Surely you are not suggesting…!”
“If there’s only one room, I will bear it cheerfully, no?” He stared at her innocently.
Unsure of whether she’d heard him correctly the first time, it was important she set him quite straight on this matter. She narrowed her eyes. “I am not some lightskirt, Mr. Bateman.” She would be clear on this point. Crystal clear. Simply because she’d broken a few of her own rules…
“I never said you were. But if you remember correctly, it was you who was watching me.”
“I was appreciatingyour horse.” She clarified.
She ignored the softening she felt at the reappearance of his dimple. “But of course, madam.” He seemed to intentionally deepen his French accent as he nodded agreeably.
Too agreeably.
“He was—he is—a beautiful animal.”
“She.” He corrected her. “Apparently, you did not appreciate her closely enough. You were distracted, no?” That twinkle lurked again.
She would ignore his insinuation. “I am sorryshewas stolen from you.”
He frowned at the reminder. Aubrey rather enjoyed her place beside him while he drove. He was forced to stare at the road while she could look at him all she wished. “
