seventeen
Isabella spurred her mare onwards. The warm morning and the nearly empty Hyde Park were the perfect combination for a ride with Patrick and for forgetting the pain of seeing Anthony.
After her brief but shocking encounter with him, she hadn’t seen him again. But his pain had left a deep mark in her heart. She’d sent him another message to tell him that, if he needed a friend, she would be there for him. Surprisingly, he’d answered with a simple ‘thank you,’ which was promising. She would try again.
He was hurting, and maybe he’d changed his mind about her, but she didn’t care; it hurt, but she wanted to be his friend anyway, if he let her.
Behind her, Patrick was in full pursuit, low on his stallion, but if there was one thing her mare could do, it was fly. Her mare raced along the track, lifting drops of mud with her hooves.
Morning dew glistened on the tree leaves, and a light mist lingered inches above the ground. She loved riding early because the park was almost empty and she could spur Marigold.
She reined in when she arrived at the receiving house next to the Serpentine. “First!” She raised a fist, panting heavily.
Patrick stopped next to her a few moments later. “Not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“You’re lighter than I am.” He wheezed. “Of course you’re faster.”
“Lord Patrick, you’re not a good sport. Marigold and I won fair and square. If anything, your stallion tends to get distracted quite easily. He stopped to look at that other stallion across the field.” She jumped off the saddle to give Marigold time to rest.
He dismounted as well. “I demand compensation.”
“I don’t have any money, and we didn’t agree on a wager.” She stepped onto the porch of the receiving house.
“Money is so vulgar.”
“Only those with money say that.”
He shook his head, inching closer. His golden curls framed his sapphire eyes. “What about a kiss?”
Her face flamed. Her whole body did. “A kiss?”
“For having humiliated my Triton and me without mercy. And he isn’t easily distracted. Triton is the most focused—” He didn’t finish the sentence as Triton gave a yank at the reins still in Patrick’s hand and shoved him a few feet away.
The stallion lowered his proud head to sniff at a tuft of grass.
“Bloody hell.” Patrick released the reins.
“What were you saying?”
“That I want a kiss.” He stepped closer, and she caught a whiff of his fresh cologne.
She rose on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “Done.”
He scoffed. “That’s not a kiss. Triton gives me kisses like that. I want something proper.”
“There’s nothing proper about a kiss.” Her lips tingled at the thought of kissing him. “And I’ve already given you a kiss.”
“Allow me to return it to you, then, because I’m not satisfied.” He took her hand and led her to a quiet, secluded spot from where the path wasn’t visible. He cupped her face gently, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “This is a kiss.”
He kissed her with determination but gently. Every sensation other than the feeling of Patrick’s soft lips on hers vanished. She no longer felt the warmth of the sun, the breeze on her skin, or the fatigue from the ride. Her own heartbeat seemed to pulse on her lips.
His tongue demanded entrance, and she parted her lips slowly. When she opened her mouth for him, he kissed her deeply, starting a warm tingling throughout her body.
Her first kiss. Her head spun with the onslaught of sensations.
“That’s a kiss,” he whispered against her lips. “And I shall consider myself compensated.”
