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“Tell me what you do when you’re not defying gravity,” he said, his eyes just as intense as always. “I want to learn everything about you.”
Her breath caught, surprised by his candid admission.
“Everything?” she asked. A beat of panic accompanied the word, but she dismissed it, unwilling to sacrifice the enthralling mood between them for a reminder of worry.
“As much as you’ll tell me,” he replied. “Do you like the theater? Reading poetry? Riding?”
His genuine interest helped her relax and a soft laugh escaped. “Yes, to all those things. Especially the latter. I haven’t ridden since I left home, but I do miss it. There’s glorious countryside in Ipswich, perfect for riding, and my childhood home was located near an extensive stable. My mother complained that my father spent more time there than with us in the house. She was only teasing him, but she may have been correct. He has a great love of horses, and I suppose he and I have that in common.”
A sad note crept into her voice and she quickly brightened, but it was too late. He’d listened and watched, not missing the subtle change in tone.
“You miss your family,” he said, reaching for her hand again, holding it a moment in his own.
“Yes, I do,” she answered before she rushed on. “What is it you enjoy when you’re not being an earl?”
He laughed, a chuckle from deep in his chest, and the sound heated her blood like expensive brandy.
She was lost.
Terribly lost in love.
“I’m always an earl,” he began, a roguish smile transforming his features. “But, when no one is watching, I break as many rules as possible.”
The carriage hit a rut in the road, catching her by surprise, and he reached across to grasp her shoulders and brace her gently. The motion brought them nearly nose to nose. She breathed him in, his alluring cologne tempting her, his mouth less than a whisper away.
The need to close that hair’s breadth of space thrummed in her veins, to touch her lips to his and taste him. Her longing soon became an ache begging to be fulfilled, yet with a deep breath he resettled on his side of the carriage, the suspended moment gone. She wasn’t the only one affected, though. He purposely glanced out the window and she saw him swallow twice, his throat moving beneath his loosened cravat.
The carriage rolled to a stop with blessed timing, the air within fraught with sensual tension.
“Allow me to escort you,” he said, recovering his usual charm.
She took his hand as they exited and he unhooked the lantern on the outside of the carriage to carry with them. Nodding to his driver, he led her along the fine gravel walkway toward the mews, not the house. Feeling confused, she slanted a look in his direction in time to catch his devilish grin.
Theodore drew another deep breath,taking in the night air in an effort to cool his ardor. The need to touch Lola pounded in his veins, his body in tune to her every movement. Tonight, she looked enchanting, her appearance made all the more beguiling by the light scent of her perfume, a mixture of captivating jasmine and delicate musk. How the little minx had managed to become more desirable escaped him.
When she’d spoken of her family, he’d heard the sadness in her voice, though she’d worked to conceal it. He wanted to soothe away her despair, but she needed to trust him first, not just with her secrets, but with her heart.
As they approached the mews, he stifled a grin of satisfaction, anticipating her pleasure at seeing the chestnut Arabian. She’d mentioned her love of riding. He’d chosen well.
Wyndham had followed his instructions to the letter and the mews were well-lighted and quiet. Theodore hooked the lantern on the wall near the entrance and walked with Lola to the stall where his prized stallion was housed, keeping to the cobbles so her new slippers wouldn’t become ruined.
“This is Mercury,” he said as he smoothed his hand down the horse’s forelock. “I’m certain he would like to meet you.”
She reached up and ran her palm over the horse’s muzzle. “Hello, Mercury. You’re a fine fellow, aren’t you?”
The stallion nickered in answer.
“Smart too,” Theodore said.
“He’s an Arabian, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” He’d had a feeling she’d appreciate horses, but he was even more impressed with her keen eye. “I admire the breed’s even temperament and superior stamina.”
“They’re strikingly beautiful animals. My father taught me about all kinds of horses, but Arabians have always captivated me. They embody compact strength and yet move with elegance and grace.”
“Just as you do,” he said, gazing at her lovely profile.
She looked up into his eyes and he again fought the desire to kiss her. Now was the perfect time for her gift.