Dawn was peekingabovethe horizonasthey pulledonto High Street in Sittingbourne to change horses and partake of some breakfast. Ridge wasfeelingrather jolly for having spent the night in a cramped carriage. But then, his lovely companion had a lot to do with his mood.
It had been entirely too easyfor her to allow him a fewliberties when she thought he was sleeping. He actuallyhaddozed offfor a timebefore his face had encountered a sweet smelling bosomto rest his weary head on. He’d quite enjoyedthe scent of roses and womanuntilhehadrealized he was treading down averydangerous path.While he wouldn’t mind an illicit rendezvous,he had the feeling Lady Isabella wouldn’t be quite so taken with the idea. So, he’dmurmuredanother woman’s name—and earned himself a sore arse for it.
But although the lady had a flash of anger in those lovely dark eyes, he’d felt theaccelerated heartbeat and the shallow breathsbefore she’d tossed him to the floor.Shemight pretend that she was immune to him, but herbody’sreaction told another storyentirely.
Unfortunately, that budding desire would have to be left unattended.
As they walked in the front door of theRed Lion, Ridge ledLady Isabellato a private dining area. He held outherchair and she gingerly sat down.It appeared that she was still not inclined to trust him.
Hedidn’t press the issueas he tooktheseat across from her.
As a serving maid came in and took their order, heasked fortwo pints of ale and whatever they could bring in the way of food. At the moment, he didn’t care what it was. He’d even eat bloodpudding;he was that hungry.But then, he’d always had a voracious appetite when it came tohis stomach—or any other aspectof his nature.
As if hiseyeshad troublelandingon anything elsebut his lovely companion, he looked at Lady Isabella. Even though her traveling dress was wrinkled, and hercopperhair was doing its best to escapeitspins, she was stillone of the mostbeautiful women he’d ever seen.But when sheunexpectedlyglanced up met his gaze, he shifted his attention to the table. It would be better to focus on the scarred wood rather than allow her to see his inner thoughts.
“Can I ask you something, Mr. Claymoore?”
He was rather surprised that she was willing to begin any sort of conversation with him, so hesaid, “Indeed.”
“Have youever been in love?”
Her query made him look up once more, to find that she was twirling the simple silver band on her finger.
He clenched his jaw, memories that he’d rather never revisit, threatening to rise from where he’d locked them away.“No.”
Her eyes clashed with his. “Never? Not even withSelena?”
He barely kept his lips from twitching.If he didn’t know better, he might think she was jealous.“Sharingsomeone’s bed isn’t the same as being in love.”
His lungshaltedwhen a pretty pink blush stole into her cheeks. “But it’s such an…intimacy. Surely you must feel…something.”
“I do,” he admitted, as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.“Pleasure.”
Sheshook her headat that. “I imagine the act iswonderfulfor men.”
Again, that sense of possession rose within him, but he tamped it back down.“It can be just as enjoyable for women too.”
Her brows lifted, but she didn’t appear convinced. “I’m sure it is.”
Rather than elaborate on a subject that would cause him extreme discomfort in the region of his trousers, knowing that he couldn’t act on the impulse to demonstrate, he withdrew a faded coin from his pocket and began to weave it through his fingers. He found that it helped him to concentrate, and considering the deep conversation they were having he needed the extra assistanceto stay focused.
“What are you doing?”
He shrugged. “It’s something of a habit.”
She tilted her head to the side and watched his actions,as iffascinated. “How do you do it?”
He paused and handed the coin to her. “Would you like to try?”
Shehesitated but thenaccepted the offering, making sure to pluck the item from his grasp without allowing their fingers to brush each other. He smiled in spite of himself and watched as she tried to mimic the way he’dthreaded the coin. Shesetit on her right pointer finger—where it promptly fell ontothe hard woodsurface of their tablewith a noisy clank.
Herdisappointmentwas so adorable that he couldn’t help but reach out and place it back on her outstretched hand.“Try tobalance it on your finger first.” Theybothwatched as it stayed in place this time. “Now, slowly, lift your finger and allow it to flip onto the nextone.” She did. “After it’s balanced again, repeat the motion until you get to the last finger.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“Go the opposite direction.”
Ridge didn’t watch the coinafter that. He was too fascinated by the way her face scrunched up indetermination.All at once, herfeaturestransformed into something of wonder. “I did it!” She lifted her gaze and it was as if someone had punched him in the gut. Those brown eyes were alight with happiness, her smile one of absolute brilliance, bright enough to rival the sun in the skyitself.
