Page 22 of Mr. Hunt, I Presume


Font Size:

“What were you thinking?” Collin’s voice was laced with anger and fear as he set her none-too-gently on her feet. “You could have been killed.”

Before Erienne had a chance to respond, Anna cleared her throat. “I’ll just…take the children back to the house to allow you time to recover, Miss Stone.”

“Wait,” Collin called. He reached behind him and pulled Mary’s doll from where it had apparently been tucked in the waist of his breeches. He held out the doll to the little girl who ran over to grab it with both hands.

“Thank you vewy much, Uncle Collin,” Lady Mary said, with a huge smile on her face, before hurrying back to Anna’s side.

The nursemaid promptly took both children’s hands, turned, and marched doggedly toward the house without looking back.

Erienne sank to the ground and struggled to right her breathing. She had many things to say, but first she needed air, and she wasn’t about to waste any of her precious breaths arguing with Collin over why she’d thought she’d be perfectly safe diving into a tiny creek.

She did, however, glance down at herself and notice that her shift was practically see-through, her nipples standing at attention. She plucked at her shift to pull the fabric away from her skin.

Collin had marched over to where they’d made camp only a few minutes earlier and pulled the blanket out from under the basket. He returned to where Erienne sat shivering and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She waited until her teeth stopped chattering. “Th … thank you,” she finally managed.

“You might have died,” he repeated, his face etched with a mixture of concern and anger.

Erienne sat for a moment and contemplated that declaration. He was right. She had come close to death this afternoon. It was a frightening thought, but a true one. It immediately drained her of any anger. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.”

He took a seat on the ground beside her and searched her face. “I’m not trying to garner praise. I was worried sick when I realized you couldn’t come up for air. I was watching from down a ways, and came running when—”

Her head snapped up, her eyes seeking his. “You came running to save me?”

“Yes,” he admitted, looking positively boyish.

Gratitude washed over her, more powerful than the water of the creek ever could have been. She reached out and pressed a cold hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Collin. I’ve always considered myself a good swimmer. I suppose I never thought I’d be in danger.”

He sat up on his knees and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Do you want me to carry you back to the house?”

She tilted her head and considered the offer. “No.”

“Would you like me to send for Lucy?”

“No.” She pressed her cold, wet nose into the quilt.

He frowned. “Do you want me to walk with you?”

“No.”

He cracked a smile. “Would you mind telling me what you’d like to do next, then?”

“This,” she said resolutely, before tugging him down atop her, soaking his shirt.

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Collin woke up, rolled over, and groaned. Bloody hell. He’d kissed Erienne yesterday. And the day before. And done more, both times. They’d nearly made love on the creek bed yesterday. God’s teeth—she’d had her hand around his cock, and it had taken all the strength in him not to tear off what remained of her clothing and bury himself deep inside of her.

But the woman had nearly died, for Christ’s sake. In the end, Collin wasn’t so much of a scoundrel that he intended to take advantage of her in her weakened state. Instead, he’d forced himself to pull away from her, wrapped the blanket more snugly around her, gathered the basket, and walked her back to the house, where Anna had already alerted the maids, who were waiting for Erienne with warm blankets and a hot bath.

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been around Erienne for only two days, and clearly couldn’t keep his hands off her. He had no right to appear in her life again and cause havoc. He’d obviously hurt her when he’d left. Even if she hadn’t mostly admitted it, he could tell by the acerbic things she’d said at dinner, by the tears in her eyes in the garden, and then there was that brain-rattling slap she’d given him in the library.

He couldn’t blame her for hating him. He’d hate himself too if he were in her position. He’d promised her love and marriage and then he’d left her. It didn’t matter any longer why he’d done what he’d done. She’d spent the last fourteen years as a governess, a position that was clearly beneath her.

As to why she’d grabbed him and kissed him by the creek bed … that was easily explained. She’d come close to death, and he’d come close to it himself often enough to know that a feeling of euphoria usually followed such an event. Clearly they were still extremely physically attracted to each other. She’d confused her euphoria with passion, that was all. He couldn’t blame her for that either, and he certainly hadn’t minded. But it hardly meant she was interested in more.

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece across from the bed. He’d promised to meet Derek at seven. Collin threw off the sheets and pushed himself out of bed.