Page 9 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

T homas had faced many crises in his life. Some of the most difficult had been navigating the aftermath of his father’s sudden death, rescuing his horses from his barn that caught fire, and even wrestling a panicked mare out of a flooding river.

But the crisis he felt at the moment, staring into Lady Ashley’s eyes, was unlike any of those. It was the quiet, burning kind—the kind that settled deep in his chest and threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world. Because in her gaze he saw not just a woman but a future, a temptation, and the terrifying realization that if he wasn’t careful, he could lose far more than his composure.

Yet the unbidden thought still came. What do you do with this future countess in a hayloft? Especially one that set his heart into a gallop?

“Of course, anyone who digs deeper can find something in common with another person,” she murmured, holding out her empty glass for him to pour more wine.

He obliged, holding the hand with the cup steady in his. The skin of his whole body burst out in ripples. “I don’t mind digging deeper.”

Oh no …that came out wrong.

They were now almost too close for comfort. He could easily reach around her waist, pull her in, and press her body against the length of him. She slowly retracted her hand, her gaze never leaving his. What had he gotten himself into with this woman? He had the breathtaking thought that he would never be able to win against her.

Control yourself, Thomas.

She’s a lady, and you’re the earl now, not a randy stableboy.

Her smile turned impish. This woman knew how to use her charm like a lethal weapon.

She leaned in and licked a drop of wine from her lips. Thomas’s heart skipped a beat, knowing exactly how dangerous those lips could be. Then, as if oblivious to the chaos she was creating in him, she took a slow bite of the cheese, her teeth sinking into the soft wedge. He watched, captivated by the movement of her mouth, and swallowed hard. Heat knotted low in his belly. But all he did was sit there, transfixed, gripping the cup of wine as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality. How was it that a simple piece of cheese could look so enticing? He hardened in ways that made him want to snatch his hat again, but his hand came up empty.

Devil take it. His hat was tossed aside on the ground floor.

She held his gaze as she chewed, her lips curving upward in the slightest smile—a wicked little thing that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. And when she swallowed, he had to look away, but he couldn’t look away for long.

“Something wrong, my lord?” Her voice was a purr, dripping with mischief. “You seem distracted.”

Distracted? He was utterly undone. He forced a laugh, though it came out strangled. “I’m only wondering how cheese could look so delicious.”

Her brow arched, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes. “It’s just cheese, Linsey,” she said, then took another bite, her teeth grazing the edge with infuriating precision.

His pulse kicked hard, and he couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at his lips. “Perhaps,” he conceded, watching as her tongue darted out to catch a morsel from her lip. His gaze followed the movement, his body stiffening in response. Goodness, what had he gotten himself into with this woman? She was toying with him, and he was more than willing to play her game.

He reached for the cheese, but before he could take a piece for himself, she leaned forward, offering him a bite from her hand.

You are going to marry me, so why hold back?

The thought came unbidden, and taunting.

And yet, who started this? He leaned over to take the cheese with his mouth, and let his lips linger, just for a second, on the edge of her fingers, before he pulled away. The taste of the cheese was sharp, earthy, but all Thomas could think of was the taste of her.

Her breath hitched, and she pulled her hand back slowly, her eyes locked on his. The teasing glint had dulled, replaced by something deeper, more dangerous. The space between them seemed to narrow, though neither of them shifted an inch. The air was not heavy with tension, but rather with the subtle promise of something unspoken—a spark waiting to ignite, should one of them dare. And it was well-known that a spark in a hayloft could set the whole stable ablaze.

Thomas wanted nothing more than to shed the shackles of restraint and embrace the raw, untamed nature of the place—pure and honest, so unlike the perfumed parlors of the city. And he’d let her flames light him up, as any spark from Ashley would. He’d burn the whole place down tonight, if she let him.

But tonight was not that night.

If he was going to set any stables ablaze with passion it would be his own.

However, he could still tease, so with deliberate slowness, he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the faint remnants of the cheese—and of her. “Sweet.”

She blinked, a light blush sweeping over her cheeks. “The cheese?”

Thomas leaned in, his hand moving to rest on the hay beside her, bringing him closer—so close he could smell the soft scent of her. “You.”

She let out a breathy laugh, her eyes flicking to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Incorrigible.”

He grinned, his gaze dropping to her lips, and without thinking, his thumb grazed the corner of her mouth where a tiny bit of imaginary cheese lingered. “I am merely matching you. I think you want that.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, and he loved that look. “That’s not fair.” She copied his actions, trailing her thumb over his lower lip. She placed her thumb in her mouth.

“You make it difficult to behave, Ashley.”

Her grin was slow in coming. “Behaving is for children.”

How the devil was he supposed to resist in the wake of that bold statement? He couldn’t. His lips found hers in a swift, searing—just as bold—kiss, the taste of wine and cheese mingling with the heat of her mouth. It was both a surrender and a victory, the culmination of all the teasing and tension, and yet it wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

But he pulled back, just enough to hold her gaze, his thumb brushing the curve of her jaw. “More?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, but she still didn’t pull away. Instead, she smiled—a soft, teasing curve of her lips that hinted at endless mischief. “Always.”

For a heartbeat, he could only stare. Damn her. She knew exactly what she was doing. And if he wasn’t careful, he’d be the one undone. Who was he fooling?

I already am.

*

When it came to teasing, Lady Ashley knew how to wield her charm like a finely honed blade. But with him—Linsey—every smile, every word, every touch felt like more than a game. It was a dangerous thrill, a breathless dance at the edge of something supremely perilous. And she needed to be careful, for already she could feel a slight shift in power, leaving her wondering just who was truly in control.

She couldn’t let it be him.

So, when he leaned in for another kiss, she blocked her lips with a hand and laughed at his momentarily befuddled expression. “Always doesn’t mean right now.”

“Now you are just teasing me.”

She arched an amused brow. “I believe we have both been doing just that.”

He grinned, leaning back on his arms. “Quite right.”

Ashley stared at the rogue across from her and felt a tantalizing ripple carry down her spine. It suddenly occurred to her. What better way to tease a man’s heart—and steal it—than in the stables he loved so much, amongst the hay and sighs of the horses below them. Quite frankly, it should have occurred to her earlier, which was oddly disturbing in itself, but she’d merely followed the mood before. Now, she deliberately inched closer, their noses almost touching, their lips almost brushing before she pulled away again.

“And I’m thoroughly losing,” he said gruffly.

“Then we complement each other,” Ashley said breezily. “For I love winning. Otherwise, why play?”

“You think this is a game?” His voice was soft. Raspy.

“Anything can be turned into a game if the stakes are right.” She cocked her head to the side. “Much like horse racing.”

“Someone is rather competitive,” he said, his voice smooth and sultry. If a man could purr, it would sound like this.

“You almost sound as if you are intrigued by this.”

“I might be.”

“Really?” Ashley laughed. “I seem like the opposite of what you would want for a wife.”

“And yet since the first moment we met, I could not keep my mind from wandering over to you no matter how much I tried to rein it in.”

The hairs on the back of her neck raised. She wouldn’t lose at her own game.

“In all of the two days since we’ve met?” She refused to lose. Yet statements like these unnerved her in a way that made her second-guess her carefully crafted confidence, igniting a flicker of uncertainty that danced just beneath her surface, tempting her to reconsider what she thought she knew about herself—and him. No.

No .

There was no second guessing anything!

“Losing is not fun,” he agreed. “But sometimes it’s necessary.”

“How could it be necessary?” Ashley asked, watching the light dance in his eyes. Fascinating. She couldn’t fathom giving in to this man, didn’t want to, mainly because it meant…well, it meant something she wasn’t ready to contemplate. For the first time in her life, Ashley wondered if she’d been wrong in acting before overthinking. “You mean, so that there’s a winner?”

“We learn from losing,” the earl said, drawing her back into the moment. Their proximity. “We don’t learn from succeeding.”

Nonsense! She’d gain nothing from losing. Nothing she wanted. “We also learn to succeed if we succeed.”

“Through failing, yes.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, what standard do we have to measure failure against victory.”

Ashley ignored the uncomfortable pinch in her breast. “Wise words. But I dare say, I still prefer winning, and I don’t believe I can lose in this game.” In more ways than one.

That thumb—that naughty thumb—returned to her lower lip, caressing, his touch sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. “Are you sure?”

Ashley’s breath caught at his challenge. This was no game of teasing any longer. This was a battle of wills. A test of mettle.

A thrill shot through her. “Weren’t you the one preaching we learn through losing? So why not start now?”

He chuckled. “Very good, Lady Ashley, very good.” He took a swallow of wine. “But when it comes to you, I find I don’t want to lose.”

“Well, what do you know. Neither do I.”

“Then shall we both win?”

Impossible. “I suppose that all depends on what’s at stake.”

She mirrored his earlier actions once more, but instead of her thumb, she used the tip of her finger to trace his lips more boldly this time. She wasn’t certain what she expected from him either, perhaps a manly gasp, maybe a jerk of his body. Instead, his tongue darted out and flicked over her finger right before he nipped at her thumb, his teeth grazing her skin.

She snatched her hand back, and to her dismay, his head fell back, and laughter spilled from his lips.

Splendid.

She had amused him. Drat. She wanted to tempt him, not make herself the source of this mirth. The man understood the art of teasing as much as she did. Perhaps even more. But then, amusement and mirth were not bad either.

She filed his trick away for later use.

She’d semi-failed this round. So, she would learn.

This is dangerous, Ashley.

Yes, but she felt herself coming alive with the thrill.

She was accustomed to being the one in control, the one who dictated the terms of any engagement involving her. But with the earl, it was different. He matched her step for step, leaving her breathless and slightly bewildered. And that bewilderment, beneath these awkward yet playful moments, unsettled her. It was as if, with each playful exchange, he was peeling back her layers, revealing vulnerabilities she wasn’t ready to confront. Almost as if her body were privy to information her mind had yet to grasp, she found herself responding to him.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the earl than met the eye, that there were depths to him she had yet to uncover. The question remained: Did she want to uncover this depth? Did it serve her purpose? Did it matter?

You’re losing yet again.

No .

She wouldn’t lose.

Not in this.

She was a bold woman. She claimed what she wanted. And she wasn’t averse to learning. That night, she’d learned. While he could tease and set her pulse leaping, he did it in the most subtle way. Not her. She didn’t do subtle. She did bold. And bold she would do! Her lips stretched into a grin, widening when he blinked twice at her sudden change, and she leaned into him. Not a little. A lot. So much so that her bosom pressed into his chest.

She delighted in his gasp.

He leaned backward, but she refused to let him escape so easily. She followed him down, her gaze never leaving his.

“You are not playing fair.”

“How is this not fair?” Ashley questioned. “This is called claiming the moment.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “This is called cheating.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in challenge. “By whose standards? Yours?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Then let us raise them higher, no?”

He swallowed. “So confident. I can’t help but admire your pluck.”

He carried a blend of spices and something uniquely his own, an essence that drew her in. She couldn’t let it distract her. “Like I said, Linsey, I don’t like losing. I’m also a quick learner. Are you?”

“I thought I was.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

She held his gaze. “Time will tell, I suppose.”

He nodded slowly, then cleared his throat. “Are you done? I can humbly say you won this round.”

“Really? But what if I’m not done yet?”

“You’re not?” The question was filled with question marks.

She didn’t answer; she just kissed him. It didn’t matter who started the kiss. It wouldn’t matter who ended it. It was blazing hot. All-consuming in a way that burned through her veins. If the frantic waltz of their tongues proved anything, it was that she was in danger of losing her wits in the presence of this man. That she ran the risk of falling into her own trap.

She pulled away from him, finally putting distance between them.

You are in trouble, Ashley.