Zane spread his legs. From the bottom of her hip to her knee, his thigh pressed tightly against hers. His warmth made her want to slip closer to him and snuggle deep into his strong, protective embrace.
His hands squeezed the reins. “Don’t let go of me for any reason.”
Brina gripped his trousers and the handle tighter and smiled at him. “I’ll manage myself. You handle the horses.”
“One. Two. Three.”
The earl brought the reins down hard and yelled. The curricle lurched, and then jolted violently. She was thrown backward and then forward as the horses took offgalloping. Wind whipped her face and tore at her bonnet. The road suddenly became bumpier, at times lifting Brina out of her seat. They came up quickly behind two riders. Zane didn’t slow his pace but pulled on the reins and directed the horses around them.
“Slow down, you bloody jug-bitten hell-bounder!” one of the men shouted with his fist raised and pumping in the air.
Brina looked back at him and yelled, “Have some heart, you pickle-head! We’re in a hurry!”
She heard Zane laughing and looked at him again. His concentration was on the horses, but he said, “Did you call him a pickle-head?”
Yes. She did. It surprised her too. It was so unlike her to be adventurous in her attitude. Being with Zane had her thinking and doing things she wouldn’t have done or said before.
And it all felt natural.
“He deserved it.” Brina braved another glance over her shoulder as the curricle raced along. Through the space between the angry riders, she could see the cabriolet. “Faster,” she exclaimed excitedly. “He’s still chasing us.”
“Not for long.”
Zane drew back hard on the reins, working them back and forth, pulling hard to the right, slowing the horses quickly. Brina’s heart raced. She should have been scared out of her wits, but she was enjoying the bumpy, thrilling contest to escape the person trying to spy on them.
They turned the corner and the horses almost careened into a parked milk wagon. Brina’s heart thundered. The action threw her against Zane’s shoulder, but she held on as seconds later, she was thrown in the other direction.
She gasped.
Zane paid her no mind but kept his attention on the horses and maneuvered them out of harm’s way andsped them up again. In no time, they were galloping fast again, flying past the buildings, more riders, a closed chaise, and a wagon loaded with baskets of vegetables.
“Did he make the turn?” Zane asked, the wind taking away some of his words.
She twisted around to look. “I don’t see him—no wait!” Exhilaration bubbled in her chest. “Yes, it’s him.” The driver’s arms were beating up and down as he let the reins slam against his horses. “He’s still following. What are we going to do?”
“Don’t worry and don’t let go!”
Zane guided the horses to the far lane to bypass a mule and wagon and a very important-looking barouche with a fancy family crest on the door. Brina heard more shouts, but the earl paid no mind to them and kept his attention on manning the horses. She decided not to respond to the angry men and break Zane’s concentration.
When Brina couldn’t see the cabriolet, she started to relax but suddenly a landau pulled into traffic and headed directly toward them. Her heart felt as if it jumped to her throat and was strangling her. The horses’ hooves pounded the earth like drums in her ears, the harness sounded as if it rattled deeply in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, certain the carriages were going to crash together and kill everyone.
But then Zane’s warm leg pressed tighter against her. She felt his solid strength, heard his labored breathing, and sensed his focus and capabilities. A calm settled over her. She opened her eyes and sat upright in the seat again, watching as Zane pushed the horses to go faster and expertly pulled in front of the barouche a moment before they would have collided with the landau’s horses.
Both drivers shouted obscenities.
Zane paid them no mind.
Caught up in the excitement, Brina was tempted to hurl insults right back at them, but once again refrained.
They were coming up fast behind a hackney. Zane slowed the horses and took another turn. At the very next street crossing, he took another, and then another. He seemed to know when to let the horses have their head and when to pull tight.
After taking several different roads, they came upon one with no traffic and much smaller buildings. Zane slowed the horses even more as another turn took them into a housing district. Brina loosened her grip on the seat handle and let go of his trousers and flexed her fingers. Her breathing calmed perceptibly, and she started relaxing again.
Zane smiled at her. She smiled too.
She realized that sometime during their wild ride, he’d lost his hat. His dark hair was tousled and wild. Her bonnet had fallen to the back of her shoulders. Her hair must look as windblown as his. She didn’t care. She’d had the most stimulating experience of her life. And she didn’t know how or why, but it was downright sensual too.
Twisting and turning around, she stared down the long empty street behind them. They had left the populated section of London. She had no idea where they were, but it wasn’t near Mayfair or St. James’s. The houses were small and farther apart, the lawns not as well-maintained. Rather than tall, crisply cut yew, there were small uneven hedges and fences that needed mending.
