At this, she nodded and then shrugged and lifted her gaze with an almost forced cheerfulness. “Did you have a particular destination in mind for this morning’s ride?”
He’d intended to lead her around the paddock a few times, but upon seeing her so comfortable in the saddle, deemed it unnecessary.
A chill slid down his spine, but he dismissed it. He had grown paranoid this year.
“Shall we ride along the cliffs then?” Her eyes appeared lighter this morning, rivaling the blue of the sky.
Buttercup was docile enough, even so… Hunt turned his gaze toward the ocean.
The cliffs could prove dangerous for an untested horse and rider. He’d already risked her safety once. “Let’s go inland.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “Perhaps tomorrow,” he added.
She was a little spoiled, after all. But her pout was as pretty as Hunt had seen.
Not giving her a chance to argue with his decision, Hunt urged Arturo into a sedate walk toward the pasture behind Cliff House. And then he sensed, as much as heard, Buttercup trot up beside him. When he glanced over his shoulder, she sat up straight, elegant and poised.
“Tomorrow,” he said again.
“Very well.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “I love how the sea air feels in the morning. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.”
This woman… in that instant, he imagined her eyes closed, her head back, mouth parted, her legs cradling him…
Hunt swallowed hard. He needed to get on with his wooing.
Priscilla clamped her mouth shut. She did well enough with the charade until she was alone with him.
Again, she had forgotten that Allison didn’t ride. By the time she’d realized her mistake, it had been too late to adjust her demeanor.
Besides that, she rationalized, to force herself to sit awkwardly atop this precious animal would not have been fair to Buttercup.
But then she had compounded her mistake by confessing that she missed the sea.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have noticed. Perhaps he wasn’t aware that Mr. Meadowbrook’s residences were all inland. She studied his profile and then appreciated his steady posture as he rode.
He was perfectly matched to his magnificent horse.
She dragged her gaze away from Lord Hardwood’s thighs, which looked lean and powerful, straddling his beautiful mount. But her traitorous glance then only moved to his elegant hands, loosely clasping the reins with long and capable fingers.
Her even less disciplined memory imagined them stroking her skin.
What am I thinking?
Priscilla inhaled. Salt tasted in the air, a damp cold flavor that reminded her of her childhood.
Seemingly unaware of the direction of her thoughts, Lord Hardwood allowed his mount to stroll beside her as they crossed the meadow. Occasionally, the powerful horse danced sideways, impatient when his rider pointed out notable landmarks.
Her companion didn’t force conversation but occasionally asked her general questions. Fearful she’d slip again, Priscilla deliberately paused before answering each one. Did she keep a horse to ride at school? What did she do in her leisure time? Did she miss Fiddlesticks, whom she’d had to leave behind again?
No, help out in the kitchens, and yes—she hoped the pup wasn’t lonely. She kept her answers as short and safe as possible.
But there was no ignoring those moments when he caught her gaze and held it a few seconds longer than was appropriate. No, she was not the only one remembering the embrace they had shared in his chamber.
Jerking her head, she stared off in the opposite direction. What was this sizzling that danced down her spine? Excitement or guilt? How would she ignore this for what remained of her promised visit?
Nine more days!
With him confined to his chamber, she’d been relatively successful in maintaining the charade. It had been a matter of suppressing the guilt she experienced around his mother and sisters—all of whom extended her with the warmest welcome imaginable.
The only girl amongst three brothers, she was surprised at how comfortable she felt amongst them. Of course, she would have felt even more comfortable if not for her deception.
