It would have given him another opportunity to touch her—to kiss her. But, as it was, getting himself onto the ground was going to be challenging enough.
Not allowing himself to dwell on the particulars, he dismounted with as little ceremony as possible. However, it proved to be a mistake when white-hot flames shot up his leg. Hissing through his teeth, Hunt clutched the saddle to keep from falling. Something of a miracle, he thought proudly, that he didn’t shatter the yard with curses.
Allowing a moment for the agony to subside to a dull throbbing, he inhaled a slow breath.
“My lord?” Her voice sounded from behind him. Before he could stand upright, her hand landed on his shoulder.
The air was heavy with manure and grass and salt, but all he noticed was her scent. It was coming to be a favorite of his, delicate and clean, but with a hint of spice—unusual for a woman.
And entirely intoxicating—summoning imaginations that took both of them beyond a clumsy embrace on the settee.
“I think that the doctor would not be happy if he knew you’d been sitting a horse this morning.” A teasing lilt softened her words.
Her hand trailed down his back, and Hunt delayed doing anything that would have her pull away.
So instead, he simply turned his head, putting his face intimately close to hers—so close that if he leaned in, he would taste her breath.
That familiar awareness danced between them.
“I couldn’t miss riding with you,” he admitted. His voice sounded lower.
She affected him. And it had nothing to do with the agreement he’d made with her father. He’d felt this at the lake that morning before he knew who she was.
Her mouth parted, and then she licked her lips.
With her, his only thoughts ought to be of securing her father’s funds, but instead, his gaze caressed her cheeks, her jaw—her lips. His worries got lost amongst other feelings she evoked in him.
A few were proper and gentlemanly, but many were not.
“You should have, though,” she protested, their gazes locked together. “You should have rested it for another day or two.”
Hunt’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Then, keeping one hand on the horse, he slid the other around her neck.
He would kiss her this morning, after all. Not in a calculated way but simply because he couldn’t help himself.
And but for a startled cry, she welcomed this kiss. Heartily.
Afraid to scare her as he had before, Hunt checked his ardor. He wouldn’t pull her against his arousal, so instead, he soothed the back of her neck with his fingers.
He did so tenderly, caressing the hair at her nape, massaging the skin behind her ears.
And gentling his lips against hers, he tasted the rose petal flesh inside. She tilted her head so he could deepen the connection, and her soft sigh shimmered through him.
“Sweet,” he murmured. “So damn sweet.”
Her hands smoothed up the lapels of his jacket, and she clung to him.
And this time, when she broke the kiss, it wasn’t because she wanted it to stop, but because she needed to catch her breath.
“Emerson.” She dropped her head to rest on his chest.
His name on her lips was a gift.
A gift.
He wouldn’t rush her. He wouldn’t push her.
She was not even out of school; it was no wonder she was confused.
