Chapter Three
Upon finding himself momentarily slack-jawed,Ridge snappedhis mouthclosed.WatchingLady Isabella walk away from him, he couldn’t help but focus on what she’d just revealedregarding her“…brief, painful affair.”
She was referring to her abandonment by the viscount, for surelySimon hadn’t been so much of a ne’er-do-well that he’d taken his virginal bride without any sort of thought for her pleasure.
Ridge clenched his hands into fists.Theveryidea that her introductioninto the world of carnal delights was devoid of ecstasywas unthinkable.If he were her husband, he would have taken his time and loved Isabellathe way she was meant to be.
A sense of possession rose within him, but with a deep exhale he forced himself to relax, for there was nothing he could do about it now. Or ever. The damage had already been done.
The question was, just how farhadthe damage gone?
Ashegathered up the remains of their outdoor supper, Ridgereminded himself that it wasn’t up to him to set things to rightswith the lady. He was here for one purposealone—to see that she was protected fromWistenberry. After the wretch was caught, he would takeIsabellaback to her family and hopefully, inform them that she was a widow, whereas she could try to pick up the pieces of her failed union and find happiness with someone else.
It didn’t matter that the thought of her being bound to another worthless wastrel made his eye twitch. The point was, hecertainly had no businessthinking of her in any other mannerthan what she was—his current mission.Thesinglereason he was with her now was because the Crown wanted Wistenberry in custody, and Lady Isabella was the best chance in accomplishing that without spending hours combing the entire English countryside for any sign of him.
From here on,Ridgeintended to keep things strictly professional and anyotherthoughts of Lady Isabella pushed firmly out of his mind.
Asheclimbed into the coach,Ridgenoticed that her head was turned to the side and propped against the carriage wall.Obviously, she meant tosleep for the rest of their journey andblock him out.It was just as well that those lines had been drawn.
Once he’d settled himself and they set into motion once more, he could be thankful thatat leastone of them was being sensible.
***
Thankfully, the next time Isabellaopened her eyes, it wasn’tbecause ofany horrible scent. In truth, she wasn’t sure what had disturbed her slumber. But now that she was awake, she found her eyes were drawn to the man in the seat across from her. His head was lowered andbobbeda bitwith the movement of the carriage. She was confident that he was asleep, but howcouldanyonebe comfortable in such a position?
She considered leaving him to his fateto awakewith a crick in his neck, but while he’d been nothing but kind to her thus far, she’d beenless than charitable. And that just wasn’t in her nature. At least, it hadn’tusedto be, but the moment Simon had taken herto his bedwith suchacold detachment;the bubble ofhopethat she’d built around her heart had burst, leaving a cynical woman in her place. For so long she’dput theviscounton a pedestal, but ever since his true nature had been revealed, she wasn’t sure what to believe in anymore.
She sighed as she moved over to theoppositeside of the carriage. For all of Simon’s failings, Mr. Claymoore wasn’t to blamefor them.
But when she held up her hands, she paused. What wouldshedowith his head once she held it?Lean him toward theothersideof the carriage, perhaps?
Whileshe was contemplatingthe best way to arrange him,the man dared to shift position. She held her breath as he wrapped an arm around her midsection andquite contentedly—if his easy, sleepyexpression was anything to go by—leaned against her breast like his own personal pillow.
Well, drat.Now she was well and truly caught.
With her hands still poised in the air, Isabella lowered them untilthey rested lightly on his wide, muscularshoulders.She hardly drew breath as his steady exhales warmed herthrough the material of her bodice. For some odd reason, while she had looked at Simon as thoughhe was the answer to her long awaited prayers, she’d never feltthis…intensity, thisheatedreaction when she was around him.
Even thoughthesummer seasonwas closing in,the nights were generally cool. But with Mr. Claymoore’shead resting on her, his arm encircling her like a protective band, something foreign began to flare to life inside of her. It was like a desolate fireplace just before a tinder match was struck,and it roared to life.
Her mind began to catalogue the differences between her husband and this man.WhileSimon had been muscular,it wasn’tenough where she could feel his triceps straining through his jacket. His athletic build had been because of his enjoyment of riding and boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s. Mr. Claymoore’s physique was composed of something else entirely—something particularlydangerous. He’d told her he was an agent for the Crown,and she could imagine that there had been several times he’d have to face offwith a foe, perhaps to the death.
A shiver ran through her as if someone had just walked over her grave.
Mr. Claymooreshiftedas well, but it was to lift his head and nuzzle her neck.She closed her eyes as sparks shot through her midsection and a bead of sweat trailed down her spine.
“Selena…”When he spoke, his voice was deep and husky, andat any other time itmight have made Isabella’s pulse race—if it wasn’t for the fact he wasdreamingabout another woman.
Irritated, she shovedhimwith all of her strength…
And sent him crashing to the floor.
Hepushedup ontohis elbow and blinked as if he wasn’tevensure where he was. “What the devil—!” He broke off when hecaughtIsabella staring at him.Then hecleared his throat and added,“Oh.Excuse my language,my lady.” Hedustedhimselfoff and sat on the seatacross from her. “I must have dozed off.”Again, hepaused and looked between them in puzzlement. “Whendid we switch sides?”
“Never mind,” Isabella returned curtly. “Just go back to sleep.”
She thought she caught a glimpse of a smile touch his lips before shecurled up in thecorner and put her back to him.
***
