His words cut that tension, sending a shower of tingles and shockwaves filled with the same euphoria he’d given her the day before.
“Ah, princess. So beautiful.” He kept his mouth on her until it passed, and then released her and tucked her head under his chin. “You’re a gift. A gift I never knew I wanted.” He stroked her hair with one hand, his other holding her close.
He’d mentioned the magic between the two of them, and she’d thought it would diminish with familiarity.
But it hadn’t diminished at all. If anything, its power had grown. Could attraction this hot burn forever? Surely not. It would eventually burn out. Could she marry him, bear his children, and watch him go off to some other woman?
Did she have a choice?
Did he?
The Samson Festival
Pleasuring Nia was quickly becoming Jasper’s top priority. For years, he’d been referred to as the Piccadilly Player, but for the first time in a very long time, making love didn’t feel like a game. When she tossed rigid inhibitions to the wind, trusting him so completely, and then fell apart in his arms, by God, he felt like a king.
Afterward, she pressed her face against his chest, and eventually her breaths became slow and even. Jasper was not at all compelled to move her off his lap.
He held her close, stroking her back, trying to think of the mundane aspects of his life, and still struggling to subdue his erection.
Even after more than an hour passed, he’d find himself hardening. All it required was a little squirm on her part, or that little humming sound he’d come to find so endearing.
Jasper could have had her. She’d been willing. She’d been more than willing. And he’d struggled with himself not to take advantage.
More than he already had, that was.
If he didn’t hear from Malum when they finally reached Gretna Green, Jasper would marry her. It wasn’t something he’d wanted, but the prospect was growing on him.
He needed to wait and see.
Because when Malum was involved, nothing was a given.
Will made a tapping sound and then opened the window between his box and the carriage. “Inn up ahead,” he announced. “Last one for a while, best to stop for the night.”
Although the driver would never look inside, Nia awoke and scrambled off Jasper’s lap, adjusting her bodice hastily. Jasper did not avert his gaze from her perfect breasts and felt more than a little regret when she’d tucked them away.
Nia stared outside. “We still have a few hours of light.”
Her cheeks were a warm shade of pink from sleep, if not a little embarrassment, as she sat primly on the bench.
“True, but the horses need rest.”
She turned back around. “He didn’t change them out,” she observed, “at the posting station.”
“These are Malum’s horses.” Jasper frowned. “I won’t do business with a stable if I’m not familiar with their practices.”
“Why not?” Still sleepy but always curious.
“The more work a stable owner demands of his horses, the more money he makes. Horses don’t recognize when they need to rest, and there are too many greedy masters willing to risk one of their assets dying in harness to bolster overall profits.”
“The horses don’t stop when they're tired?”
“No.”
“But that’s… cruel.”
“Exactly.” Jasper grimaced. “So we, and the team, rest here for the night.”
The road veered and a small village came into sight. Despite being situated in such an isolated location, the streets teemed with small tents, people, and all manner of festive contraptions.
