Page 11

They walked on. The crunch of fallen leaves, and scent of pleasantly sweet, decaying foliage, surrounded them.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself, just for a moment, to pretend--that Caden hadn’t become a practical stranger.

That she wasn’t on the run. That she hadn’t been forced to do the unthinkable and now suffered the consequences.

A burst of wind ripped through the tunnel of trees producing a wolf-like howl and chilling Anna everywhere Caden’s body heat did not reach. She opened her mouth to insist they start back, only to be forestalled by Caden’s next words.

“Boulsworth Hill, you say. Is that where you met your husband?”

A shiver coursed through her, though whether from the dropping temperature, or the macabre image of her so-called husband as she’d last seen him, she couldn't say. “I-I would prefer we not discuss my late husband.”

He made a tut-tut sound. Drawing to a halt, he gripped her shoulders with gentle pressure and shifted her to face him. “My dear Mrs. Jones. I didn’t balk at your questions.”

“You don’t understand. You can’t. Your world is parties and soirees and deciding between your London address, a country estate or a trip abroad. Mine is…not. Won’t you allow me this moment, walking beside you as if neither of us had a care in the world? "

Genuine concern darkened his sky-blue eyes. “You’re right. I don’t understand. But I want to.”

Her insides thrummed with a an unfamiliar heat. The entirely too-pleasant warmth threatened to steal her good sense, because more than anything, she wanted to tell Caden everything, right here, right now, starting with her mother's illness and finishing with this moment.

She shook her head to clear it. As if in direct opposition, wind and leaves swirled around them, picking up speed in time with the chaos inside her.

Then, abruptly, the wind ceased. Silence and stillness engulfed them. Her tongue darted out to dampen her dry lips.

Caden’s gaze fastened on her mouth, tracking the movement. "Help me understand," he repeated.

“Why?” she whispered, his answer suddenly vital.

He inched his big body closer, bringing them toe-to-toe, and forcing her to tilt her head back to look him in the face rather than stare at his bright white shirt and broad chest. “Because you seem in need of a confident. And because…” Caden swallowed hard and lifted his hands to cup her cheeks.

At some point, he'd removed his gloves, and the feel of his palms on her skin felt unbearably intimate—and utterly divine.

The blue of his eyes reflected the clouds overhead and swirled like a churning sea, stealing her breath. She couldn't speak. Could only shake her head.

His eyelids grew heavy and his gaze dropped with languid grace to her mouth.

God, he was going to kiss her.

The heat in her veins turned scorching, melting her from the inside out. Her lips parted, and though she knew she should, she didn’t, by word or deed, proffer the first protest. She wanted Caden's kiss, like she’d waited for it a lifetime.

Slowly, he lowered his head ’til his mouth hovered over hers. His warm breath fanned over her cheeks and goose flesh erupted over her entire body.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Is that all right?”

She swallowed. Nodded. And then, just in case he’d missed her nod, whispered, “Yes.”

She'd barely uttered the word before his mouth covered hers, his lips exerting the merest pressure, as if savoring her, as if tasting her, one deliciously sweet sip at a time.

She’d imagined a thousand times how a kiss might feel. Her imagination had not come close to reality. An ache of need she’d never known stole through her, turning her bones liquid.

He nipped at her lower lip, and she gasped at the unexpected thrill. The scent of him filled her nostrils. Soap, subtle, woodsy cologne, warm male skin, Caden . She wanted to nestle into him and breath him in, but that would mean breaking off the kiss, and that she absolutely could not do.

“Anna.” One of his hands smoothed up her nape to cradle the crown of her head, tilting her face upward. With a groan, he deepened the kiss.

Her hands found his hard shoulders of their own accord, snaked around his neck to cling to him as she rose onto her tiptoes, silently demanding more.

He responded to her invitation, sliding the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips ’til her mouth opened slightly, and his hot tongue dipped inside to feather over hers.

Her own soft mew sounded. Swift embarrassment had her pulling back .

Emitting a low growl, Caden held her fast, one arm banding around her waist. His mouth turned demanding, voracious.

Nothing had ever felt so right as the delicious friction of his lips on hers, of the hard planes of his body against hers.

Her fingers threaded into the silky golden hair brushing his collar making her wish with all her might she had removed her gloves as he had.

He shivered under her touch. “Anna, my God, Anna,” he whispered against her mouth, before sealing his hot, damp lips over hers once more.

A low pounding sounded in her ears. Her heart beat, growing louder with each passing second. Slowly, the truth permeated her kiss-drugged mind. Not her heart. Horse hoofs thumped in the not-too-far distance.

Reality flashed through her. What in blazes was she doing? She jerked away from him with the force of an ax-split log.

“Wh-what…Anna?” Caden’s chest heaved as he sucked in air. He stared at her, looking so charmingly befuddled she would have laughed under different circumstances.

After a moment of awkward silence, he gave a shaky laugh. “I wasn’t planning to take you on the forest floor, if that’s what you were thinking.”

She gaped at him. “I beg your pardon, Ca-Mr. Thurgood? There are people nearby.”

“And? This is a house party. I doubt any passers-by would have stopped to chat.”

She blinked. “Why do people keep saying that?”

He scowled. “People? Who else said that to you?”

“I think the more pertinent question, sir, is what sort of woman do you take me for? ”

His expression turned wary and he tunneled his fingers through his hair. “I never would have started the business except…you are a widow, are you not?”

The way his eyes narrowed on her face, he actually meant the question.

“Of course,” she replied, with a bit too much vehemence.

He nodded once. “As such, no one expects you to play the virginal debutante. Not at a house party at any rate. Still.” His expression turned contrite. “You have no reason to believe me, Mrs. Anna Jones, but you make me forget myself.”

The huskily spoken words reached inside her, spurring her to confess he had the very same affect on her. But that much was obvious. She’d put up no resistance whatsoever, indeed, had in fact, welcomed his heated kisses.

“I rather thought you wanted me to kiss you. Was I wrong?” he asked, echoing her thoughts.

She could not deny the truth. She shook her head.

One corner of his mouth crooked upward, giving her a glimpse of straight white teeth. “I’d begun to think I’d picked up a foul odor or grown another nose or something the way you avoid me.”

She had attempted to do just that, albeit without much success.

He barked out a laugh. “Mrs. Jones, may I make a suggestion?” Not waiting for her an answer, he grasped her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “Never take up gambling.”

“My father may have told me that once or twice.”

“A wise man,” he muttered, leading her back to the gravel path from which they’d strayed before speaking again.

“Anna—Mrs. Jones—Perhaps I should apologize, tell you I regret what happened. But I can’t.

Not without lying. I haven’t many hard-fast rules, but I do have one against telling falsehoods. ”

“No apology necessary. There were two of us involved in—” she cleared her throat “—what happened.” Her voice sounded decidedly husky to her own ears.

Evidently, he noticed. He drew to a halt, shifted to face her. “Careful. I may start thinking you want me to kiss you again.” Twin blue flames lit his eyes.

She did want him to kiss her again. But she’d forgotten her tenuous circumstance twice now since arriving to this blasted party—both times thanks to Caden.

Regardless of whether or not she, a lady’s companion and widow, could be forgiven a house party dalliance, she did not need to lose her head over the man.

She must remain vigilant, which, apparently, she couldn’t do while in his presence. It was like he was a magnetic rod and she tiny shavings of steel. She might have herself all neatly lined up, but the moment he drew near she spun about, forgetting all but him and the way he made her feel.

She’d wanted his kiss, and enjoyed it immensely. But it mustn’t happen again.

She sent him what she hoped passed for a politely regretful smile—as if she found the prospect of another kiss akin to watching water boil. “It’s past time I returned. Lady Wentworth will be awake and may require assistance.”

“Of course. I didn’t think. Must be that bump on my head again.”

Though the muted sun had climbed higher in the sky, the day had not warmed.

If anything, the temperature had dropped.

Past the edge of the tree line, hovering above Fensworth Manor, clouds congealed, creating a dome of gray as thick as smoke.

Air, heavy with moisture, clung to her like a second skin .

She might wish him to think he held little interest for her, but in truth she relished the heat eking from his body to hers where their arms linked, where his hand covered hers.

Devil take it.

“Speaking of your injury.” She shifted to face him and stripped off one glove.

Her face burned with the blush she knew stained her cheeks, but she didn’t care.

She had to touch his hair, just this once, to see for herself if it felt as silky smooth as it promised to be when she’d sifted it wearing gloves.

She reached up, eyebrows arched in a silent demand for him to lower his head. When he complied, she riffled gently through his shiny hair—luxurious silk beyond measure—and gingerly fingered the small lump.

Caden held himself stock still, scarcely seeming to breath. A muscle ticked fiercely in his jaw.

“Does it hurt much?” she whispered.

“Not in the way you think,” he answered in a rough voice.

She hesitated, uncertain what he meant by his odd reply. Finally she withdrew her hand. “You’re very lucky. Head wounds can be deadly.” A gust of icy wind stole up her skirts sending a shiver down her spine.

“My head’s too thick for one thump of a skiff to crack it.” Caden moved to stand in front of her. He pulled the empty glove she held from her grasp and attempted to slide it onto her bare hand.

It was a task easier done by the wearer.

He laughed when she tugged her hand and glove away from him.

“My first foray as a lady’s maid ends in dismal failure. I enjoyed the brief endeavor, however.”

She tried to scowl at him but found herself fighting a smile as she donned the glove, then flexed her fingers in the tight-fitting leather .

“Your hands are elegant and smooth skinned, feminine yet strong.” He met her gaze. “Apparently I like everything about you, Mrs. Jones.”

She gave him a chiding smile, unsure if he meant the profuse flattery, yet unable to still the flutter in her belly his words caused.

“I suppose I must get you back, or the dowager duchess will have my head.” He tucked her hand into his elbow and urged her closer to his side than society deemed proper for an unmarried couple. Incorrigible rake.

Still, Anna allowed the impropriety. What was one more indulgence in the grand scheme of things?

All too soon they neared the back of the Manor.

Caden slowed as if he, like she, hated to see their time together end. “I’ll see you later today, amongst the other party guests, no doubt.”

“I will be wherever Lady Wentworth wishes to spend her time.” She gave Caden a frank look. “Most likely that rules out any of the planned festivities.”

“I see. But tonight. You’ll be present at dinner.” He said the last as if stating a well-known fact.

Anna gave a non-committal shrug. Let him think what he would. If she had any say, she would not see him at dinner, or again, period. She had tempted fate enough, lingering overlong with him this morning, allowing him to kiss her.

Not that she could bring herself to regret the impulse. She would never forget their kiss as long as she lived.

They reached the portico, climbing the last step as the grey skies overhead opened, releasing a heavy rain.