His hands on her waist anchored her in place as he slowly drew her to him. She stilled, breathless, as he framed her face in his gloved palms and lowered his mouth to hers.
Laura let the crop drop to the ground at the rush of sensation, her senses alive, her heart thudding. She gasped when he claimed her mouth in a masterful, experienced kiss. When his tongue touched hers, electricity spiraled through her body. So unlike anything she had experienced, she lost herself, her hand at his nape, her fingers sliding into his silky hair. The kiss in no way resembled Edward’s brief press of lips. Aroused, she gasped when he broke the kiss, and she feared she would fall when he let her go. But he kept hold of her, his hands roaming her back, a smile in his eyes. “You are uncommonly pretty, Laura.” As she went to push him away, he released her.
Was this a prelude to something infinitely more? She pulled herself up sharply. She had come to terms with the fact that they would become lovers, but she refused to be taken on the grass like a common trollop. Like one of those courtesans she and Emma had talked about. She’d thought herself safe then from ever falling this low. A rush of confusion and humiliation washed over her. “Shall we walk on? There’s a bridge ahead, around the bend in the river.” He spoke as if the kiss hadn’t happened. “If you wish, we can cross it for a better look at the wildflowers.”
Bending to pick up her crop, Laura felt deflated, so ready to fight him, and now… It was as if the wind had left her sails. She couldn’t make sense of his behavior. He left her totally baffled, and she suspected he had intended to do just that. Her pulse still raced, and she struggled not to trace her lips with her tongue over where his mouth had touched hers.
He took a firm grasp of her hand, and they followed the river, walking along the rocky path. If he chose not to refer to the kiss, neither would she. But she would be foolish to believe kisses would be enough for a man such as him. And naïve indeed not to believe that was why he’d brought her here. It was the first step in a seduction, she surmised. And she couldn’t deny it had been, as he’d phrased it, pleasurable.
*
In the meadow,Brendan stood and watched Laura sitting on the ground with a very appealing lack of concern for her habit while she filled her lap with wildflowers, some the color of her eyes. What a delightful picture she made. She did not appear, as her brother had led him to believe, very experienced. Having realized it with a shock, he’d intended to break the kiss, thinking it best to take things slowly, but the touch of her soft lips, her scent and sweet breath, and he’d deepened the kiss, wanting to taste her.
Beneath his hands, her slim body had revealed enticing curves. Her full breasts had pressed against his chest. She was enchanting, with an unassuming charm, and possibly very inexperienced in the ways of love. The thought pulled him up. He had not expected such a possibility and didn’t welcome it. He kept to his intention to proceed slowly, although somewhat regretfully. Laura deserved better than a roll in the grass. Although they might at some stage… She’d enjoyed the kiss, after all. At the ball, he hadn’t been wrong about what he’d seen in her as they’d talked on the terrace. Laura was a passionate woman. But he was discovering more about her than he’d expected.
He smiled and walked over to her, and it was all he could do not to join her there on the ground and further their acquaintance. “You remind me of the Greek goddess Flora, in your flowery bower.”
“I do?” She glanced up and her smiling, blue eyes caused an odd throb in his chest. Surely, not in the region of his heart?
“Isn’t that enough flowers?”
She pursed her lips. “I have picked rather a lot. They are so pretty, I couldn’t resist.”
And so are you, he thought. Far too lovely and hard to resist. This was not how he’d envisaged their brief interlude to go. A more predictable affair, like all his others. With both understanding the terms. One he could control. And it surprised him that already, he struggled to keep his head around Laura. It unsettled him. He could always rely on his ability to keep his emotions in check.
Laura climbed to her feet. She shook out the skirts of her habit and surveyed the pile of wildflowers. “We shan’t be able to carry them on horseback. How shall we get them home?”
“When we return to the house, I’ll send a servant to collect them.”
“I hope they don’t wilt,” she said with a regretful glance at the colorful bunch. She stooped and picked two flowers, a red poppy and a yellow daisy, and tucked the yellow into the bodice of her habit.
He smiled, very aware of the enticing curve of her breasts, as she approached him.
“And this is for you.” She tucked the red flower into his buttonhole.
Her laughing eyes, her scent, enveloped him. It was all he could do not to draw her into his arms, as his body burned with wanting her. Waiting for her might drive him mad. The word “mad” made him scowl and brought him back to Earth. To reality. He studied the bank of clouds advancing on the horizon. “The weather changes,” he said, his voice sounding bitter to his ears. “There’s a good chance we’ll get rain soon. Best we hurry.”
Laura glanced up at him with a wary arch of her brow, as if she’d noticed the change in his voice. She didn’t comment as they walked back to the bridge. One thing he’d noticed about her, she was sensitive to people’s feelings.
When they reached the horses, he assisted her onto Honey, then mounted his gelding.
“You must have a name foryourhorse,” she said, riding her mare up close beside him. He noted her mischievous smile. Apparently, she would not spare him. “Or is he called ‘Dark Brown Gelding’?”
“Bruno.” He fought a grin as he gathered up the reins. “Shall we go on?”
They rode single file along the narrow path into the woods. “‘Bruno’ is the Italian word for ‘brown,’ is it not?” she called. “Not a very inspiring name for such a fine horse, but I suppose Bruno is glad of any name. Considering he may be the only such horse afforded the honor.”
Brendan’s mouth twitched. “He hasn’t complained.” He turned in the saddle to look at her. “But haven’t I allowed you to name the mare I intend to sell? And how suitable a name it is, bearing in mind the rider.”
Her laugh was lighthearted. Brendan couldn’t help admiring her spirit. Despite everything that had happened to her—and the previous few years must have been difficult and sad with the loss of her parents, as well as a possible failed romance—Laura found humor and delight in the simplest things. “I fear what any child of yours might be called,” she added as the horses emerged onto the drive.
She was clearly curious about his avowal never to marry. He glanced back and found her expression one of innocent inquiry. “Not a problem I intend to have.” His tone made it clear he did not wish to continue the discussion. It would be dangerous if she broke through his defenses.
When she fell silent, he wondered if he had said enough to dissuade her, but apparently not.
“I haven’t forgotten your declaration that you would not marry,” she said as they approached the stables. “I don’t wish to pry, but it sounds so utterly final from a man still in his prime.”
He laughed. “In my prime, am I?”
