Page 7 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

S he had thought Linsey the puzzle, but no, she was the biggest one.

Why was she sitting on Linsey’s lap? She should get off. Put distance between them. Instead, she remained there, her body curiously unwilling to budge. His eyes, an intense shade of golden-brown, seemed to flicker with some unreadable emotion—desire? Confusion? His chest rose and fell beneath her with a steady rhythm that felt impossibly calming and yet stirred something wild inside her.

His scent was impossible to ignore.

The earthiness clung to him, mingling with the crisp outdoor air that crept into the carriage. His warmth surrounded her, and she couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt beneath her, all lean muscle and strength. His jaw—sharply defined and slightly shadowed with the hint of stubble—drew her attention.

A sudden urge to run a finger along the line of his face filled her, but more than that, a reckless urge to kiss him. She could hardly believe herself, yet there it was, a wild temptation that made her fingers twitch. But then, once she set her mind on a task, she gave it her all. And, well, Ashley refused to miss the perfect opportunity to grab the man by the lapels and boldly rob him of his breath!

So, she did just that.

She yanked him to her, planting her lips firmly on his. The man had the gall to speak of virtue. Well, then, she would have the gall to kiss this vexing mouth into submission! His heart would, hopefully, follow soon enough.

His body tensed beneath her, his hands coming to rest on her waist, probably unsure of whether to pull her closer or push her away. But he didn’t push her away. She wanted to take charge, to sculpt this impulsive moment into something she controlled. But no. Linsey met her passion with an intensity that startled her, a force that left her breathless. His hand cradled the back of her head, a tender gesture that contrasted with the hunger in the kiss.

So good.

Ashley’s senses reeled, torn between the desire to lead and the unexpected thrill of being met with equal force. The air around them pulsed with the heat of their intertwined spirits; even as she fought for control, she couldn’t deny the electricity sparking from his touch, setting her every nerve alight.

Ashley’s senses spiraled, caught between her desire to command and the thrilling shock of his equal thirst. The air between them crackled, pulsing with heat and tension, every touch sparking a fire along her skin. She could feel the strength in him, the restrained power beneath the gentlemanly bearing, and she hated how much she liked it.

She was in his lap!

Her weight pressed him back into the corner of the bench.

Then why, oh why, did it feel as though he had taken complete control of their kiss? Over her senses?

No! Ashley wouldn’t allow it.

Her free hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, intent on reclaiming the reins. She was not one to yield easily!

But then… Oh . His teeth grazed her lower lip before his tongue pushed in. Her heart stumbled, skipping a few beats.

And then it stopped altogether.

The man could kiss.

And how he could kiss!

Every breath, every movement of his lips against hers sent a dizzying thrill through her, unraveling her willpower in a way she hadn’t foreseen. This wasn’t a mere kiss. It was a claiming. And it was far too spellbinding.

Ashley had never been so bewildered before.

How was it possible that his mouth could simply touch hers, and her insides leapt with a giddy thrill?

No, it wasn’t merely that.

It was a heady blend of sparkling contact, a fiery dance of tongues, and his intoxicating scent overpowering her senses. Her heart had ceased its rhythmic beats, and her lungs forgot how to draw in air. Breathless and dazed, Ashley’s bones turned to cotton. Kissing like this, the man certainly didn’t seem like the villain who would send another man fleeing from London.

He seemed like just the right man to hold her in his strong arms and kiss her for as long as she existed. Anyone who claimed a woman like that—claimed her like Thomas did—would surely be—

And then it was over.

He pulled away and stared down at her. Ashley stared back, no words ready to fire from her tongue. Was this what they called speechlessness?

Oh dear, it was horrible!

The tips of his fingers brushed over his mouth. “What did you just do?”

“I, I kissed you.” And you devoured me back . She suddenly laughed. “Why? Are you afraid?”

“Yes, I’m terrified.” He turned his gaze away for an instant.

The Earl of Linsey terrified. Ashley would take it. At least she wasn’t the only one with a momentary lapse of wit.

“Not that I mind, Lady Ashley,” he went on while she still gathered her internal dictionary. “But you are still sitting on my lap.”

Ashley launched herself back to her seat. How could she have been sitting on his lap all this time without a worry or care!

Compose yourself, Ashley.

But she could still taste him.

Smell him.

It was intoxicating—and infuriating. She didn’t want to feel that way. After all, he had upended her life, hadn’t he?

The implication: How could she compose herself?

She felt a pinch of pity for her plan of revenge.

But that didn’t stop her from forging onward using the best of her ability. She planned to find Jordan when all of this was over. But even she wasn’t so jaded to believe that when she did find him, all would go as she dreamed.

For one, Jordan had left with nothing but a note. He hadn’t even had the courage to say goodbye in person. She had tried not to think about that, but it still brewed in the back of her mind. Also, why hadn’t he taken her with him? She’d have run away with him if he had asked. But he hadn’t even bothered to do that.

Plus, Jordan had never kissed her like that—he hadn’t kissed her at all except for her wrist. Which meant…

Linsey was her first true kiss!

Her eyes fixed on Linsey, and he stared back steadily. “I came to London to search for a wife,” he suddenly admitted.

Her lips parted and closed, brows furrowing. “I’ve deduced as much. And you found one.” But do not count your foals before they are colts, Linsey . “I also heard there is a reason you are searching for a wife. A reason for you to find one sooner rather than later.”

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “There is.”

She arched her brow. “But you don’t want to tell me, is that right?”

“I don’t,” he admitted, then said softly. “But…” His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “If I don’t marry, I’ll lose a bet.”

Ah, so she had been right. “Something to do with horses, I suspect.”

He nodded. “If I don’t marry by my birthday, then I’ll lose six of my prized steeds.”

Well, at least it wasn’t one.

Still. “You would marry just so that you don’t lose your horses?” Unbelievable. No, considering this was Linsey, very believable.

“You sound incredulous; however, my horses are everything to me.”

“Oh my word! Why?” There must be something more here. A reason behind his obsession. A man who kissed like that must have more depth than the mere pleasure of horsemanship, right?

“Are you obsessed with anything, Lady Ashley?”

Does revenge count? “Perhaps.” Perhaps not becoming as frivolous and detached as her mother? That certainly had been an obsession of hers. She had no true hobbies. Well, except if she counted spending time with her friends.

Goodness!

Could she be becoming her mother by obsessing how not to become like her mother? Was there something wrong with her because she had nothing she was that attached to, except for him? She almost wanted to ask if he’d marry them rather than give them up?

“I can’t say that I am,” she finally murmured. Nothing she would openly admit to, anyway.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps you just haven’t found something you are passionate about.”

If only you knew, Earl. “I have you now, do I not?”

He chuckled. “You should never place your passion onto people, Lady Ashley. They inevitably disappoint.”

She cocked her head. “That is quite jaded.” And this from the lips she just kissed!

“But the truth.”

“Well, horses disappoint, too, you know.”

That earned her a raised brow that practically shouted, “How so?”

She shrugged, settling into her seat. “They may run away, too.”

“Who’s the jaded one now?”

Ashley smiled, pointing out, “They also lose races.”

Linsey laughed. “That has to do with the rider as well. The blame cannot be entirely put on the horse’s head.”

The carriage jolted once more, and Ashley pressed herself more firmly into the seat. She couldn’t have a repeat of earlier! “I believe human or beast, we are all at the mercy of transience.”

“I doubt that horses give such grand philosophical ideas much thought. They are simple creatures, loyal and unchanging.”

“Well, if that’s your reason for being so enamored with them, I fear for my poor future husband.”

Amusement flickered in his eyes, a genuine curiosity beneath it. “And why is that?”

You’ll know soon enough, Linsey.

“They may never betray you, my lord, but what about you? What—or who—are you betraying by keeping them so close to your heart? So much so that you’d marry me without truly knowing me?”

“Oh? Then what about you, Lady Ashley? Were you not the one who asked me to wed you first?”

Ashley waved a hand. “Only after you asked my father.”

“Yes, but you now know my reason for a hasty marriage. What is your true reason? I’m thoroughly curious.”

He surely was. But any answer she gave him now would be a lie. This entire betrothal was built on deceit, and he had yet to realize it. If he suspected too soon, she wouldn’t accomplish what she’d set out to do. And, with any luck, by the time he discovered the truth, it would be far too late.

She suddenly sensed his underlying suspicion.

His eyes were sharp, not only capable of piercing right through her ploy but straight through her soul.

Don’t falter now, Ashley. Don’t forget what he took from you.

“If you are looking for reasons, my lord, you need look no further than my age. I’m not a woman meant to even touch the outskirts of spinsterhood.”

He stared at her, then suddenly laughed, shaking his head. “Very well, Lady Ashley.”

She inwardly stuck out her tongue at him. “You should get some rest,” she muttered, averting her gaze. She could do with rest too. Space. Even if it was only mental. Why did he assume she wanted to marry in such haste? As a man, he was probably imagining the worst. His earlier comment about her chastity came to mind.

Wretched thing.

Hah! Horses do not betray? What, then, was he betraying by marrying the first girl—chaste or not—just to keep his beloved horses?

*

Thomas had never been so relieved to escape a carriage. What had just happened? The crunch of gravel under his boots was a welcome distraction as he took a few brisk steps away from the carriage, breathing in the cool air of twilight.

They kissed.

No, she had kissed him .

But he’d kissed her back.

Then she kissed him back more .

And he kissed her back more.

So she’d started it. More importantly, she made him feel things. Things he hadn’t expected, things he wasn’t even sure how to name. What unsettled him even further was what she had said. Her words echoed in his mind, a challenge he couldn’t shake. They may never betray you, Linsey, but what about you? What—or who—are you betraying by keeping them so close to your heart?

The question rattled him.

Because he didn’t know how to answer it.

Thomas scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to focus on his breath. The sensation of the kiss still lingered on his lips—a heady mix of sweetness and something deeper, something that set his pulse racing.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

This was the type of experience that authors and poets strove to depict with elaborate prose, yet here he was, living it. Vivid. Uncontrollable.

He hadn’t expected this.

It was going to haunt him.

The kiss had started soft, a tentative immersion, but then there had been a shift. Her lips became more insistent, daring him to follow her lead. And he did—though perhaps not fully understanding what it would awaken in him. He inhaled sharply, remembering the tenderness of her touch, a delicate suckling that had pulled him deeper into the moment. It was a dance of breath and longing, each movement synchronized silently, a promise of more to come.

Bloody hell.

He was reliving it as though it were happening again. She’d stirred a longing deep within him that he knew he wouldn’t be able to satisfy. Perhaps ever!

Only she could.

A mix of awe and bewilderment seized him. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. What was this? A simple kiss, and yet his whole body had responded, sparking a fire that refused to be extinguished. His heart hammered as he recalled how she had made him feel.

No, not just feel—desire.

He glanced down at the strain in his trousers.

He shifted, turning slightly as she exited the carriage behind him. Thomas snatched his hat from his head, using it to hide the evidence of his desire. But this wasn’t the worst of it. He wanted her near again. Wanted to taste her again. To feel her breath against his skin.

Clearing his throat, Thomas gripped the brim of his hat tightly, as though that could steady his thoughts.

Think about something else, Thomas.

But it was impossible. He was no novice when it came to kissing and had stolen many a kiss before. Yet this—this had been something entirely different. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a revelation. She had kissed him like she knew something, as though she carried a secret knowledge of how to stir a storm within the human soul. As if she held the secrets of how to unravel him completely. He shivered despite himself.

It was disconcerting.

Exhilarating. Terrifying.

How could he get more?

Yet, how had one kiss left him so undone?

He stood there, erect and perplexed, wondering how such an encounter could leave him so unmoored. And there lay his dread, raw and unbidden, that this unexpected maestro of emotion could lead his life into a tempest of disarray just as easily.

Damn it . A thrum of nerves competed for the ranks of his racing heart. He was taking her home. Bringing her home. And that act suddenly seemed to carry a weight far greater than he’d first imagined.

“What are you doing?”

Thomas jerked at the voice that crept up from behind. “Oh, merely observing our surroundings,” he said quickly, cursing his dull answer. His gaze met hers before sweeping the area, the area as if searching for something to point out. It landed on the inn they had stopped at. The roof sagged, puddles had formed where the rain had broken through, and the whole building looked as though it might crumble with the slightest nudge. He’d been there a few days ago. What happened?

“Are we staying here ?” Ashley asked, stepping up beside him, her tone laced with disbelief.

Thomas cast a glance at her, noting her elegant figure against the shabby backdrop. This wasn’t the grand ballroom or elegant estate she was used to. This was Sleepy Oak—a far cry from her usual surroundings. But there was no other choice. The horses needed rest, and so did he. “It has its charm.”

“Charm?” She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t see it. Unless by ‘charm’ you mean the imminent collapse of the roof.”

“Precisely,” Thomas quipped. “It’s part of the rustic experience. Builds character.”

“Rustic experience? You should write travel pamphlets,” she said dryly. “You’d sell none.”

“’Tis as far as the mares will take us,” the driver announced, echoing Thomas’s thoughts.

“Well,” Lady Ashley said, her voice dripping with resignation, “at least the horses get to enjoy it. They do deserve better lodgings than we, after all.”

Thomas gave her a wry look as they approached the weathered oak door of the inn. “Oh, without question. In fact, they usually have fresh straw. We’ll be lucky to have that much.” An exaggeration, of course.

“Fresh straw? You really know how to spoil a lady.”

He grinned, opening the door. “I live to serve, my lady.”

Lady Ashley rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile as she eyed the crumbling inn again. “I hope you have better plans for our future accommodations.”

Inside, the inn was a scene of hasty repairs—men sawing wood, women collecting buckets filled with rainwater. The innkeeper, a rotund man with a bristling mustache, greeted them with an apologetic smile.

“Good evening, milord. I’m afraid we have a situation at hand.”

Thomas’s eyes darted toward the ceiling, where water dripped steadily from above. “What happened?”

“Rain, milord. The roof couldn’t hold. I’m afraid the rooms are all out of commission.”

Thomas sighed, rubbing his temples. They were miles from the next village, and he couldn’t push the horses any further. “Do you require any help?”

“Just time, milord. My daughters help, and each of my sons-in-law are here, and my brother’s come, too.”

“And there isn’t a dry place left?” Thomas had to confirm.

“Only the stables, milord. We will sleep at my daughter’s cottage and the stove’s unlit.”

“Have you anything for the mares?”

“There’re carrots and apples in the stables,” the man said. “No charge, if you promise to stop here after we repair the inn.”

“Of course.” Thomas pulled a bank note from his coat and placed it on the counter. “To help.”

“Milord—”

“Keep it,” Thomas insisted before the man could protest. “You will need it, and I shall need future accommodation again. We shall make do with the stables tonight.” At least his body had calmed.

The man nodded. “Very well, milord. I shall show you there in a moment.”

Thomas nodded and strode over to Lady Ashley. “There’s no room at the inn,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “They’ll let us stay in the stables,” he said, then added, “There are apples and carrots.”

She raised an eyebrow, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on her gown. “Ah, so we do get to sleep like royalty tonight. I almost feel honored.”

He chuckled. “It could have been worse, trust me.”

“Very well, then. Who am I to argue.”

Thomas marveled at her composure. He thought she might fuss, but surprisingly, she took the news very good-naturedly. This was what he liked about her.

Nothing seemed to faze her.

Not kissing.

Not spending a night in a stable.

Not him.

It was going to be a long night!