Taffeta & Hotspur

Tarrant’s black stallion pranced beneath him, and he took a moment to bring his horse under him. She could not help but admire his horsemanship. He was strong of leg and quiet of hand.

The two horses touched noses, and the stallion seemed pleased to find Moose submissive so they fell easily into step beside each other, leaving Tarrant free once more to converse.

He eyed her and said, “As to that, it was my intention, but my aunt wishes me to stay for dinner, and I have dutifully accepted. She is the favorite of my aunts, and I don’t see enough of her.” The stallion snorted for an unknown reason, and pranced a bit until he quieted him again.

Taffy laughed appreciatively as she indicated with a flick of her chin. “He suits you—restless.”

His eyes stared into hers, and once again he was the man in her vision. Feral with desire … coming for her, and she was oh, so willing. She had to stop this. She couldn’t think of him like this. Maids were not supposed to…

Tarrant jarred these thoughts when he laughed and said, “Let’s call a truce, you and I, shall we?”

“A truce, my lord? Were we at war?”

He smiled, and she was all too aware of his magnetism. This one was dangerous. He had a killer smile and a singular charm to go with it, and when he used it, a woman could forget he was a scoundrel.

He inclined his head. “I don’t know why it was, but I think lunch was a sparring contest.”

She eyed him warily. The devil was actually flirting with her. Does he think I would be an easy conquest? Ha! “A truce, then. I shall not throw my handkerchief … or cap, your way, and you won’t try to seduce me.” She watched the devil glitter in his eyes, and it was most definitely intriguing. She had to keep him at arm’s length for certain.

He laughed again and answered easily, his eyes full with his amusement, “I shall have to consider this…” Without warning, he leaned over and lightly, easily managed to kiss her lips, parting them, and expertly found refuge there for his tongue.

She was startled by the unexpectedness of it. She was shocked by her reaction both in her body and mind. She felt the blood race through her veins, calling all her nerve endings into action. She felt her heart begin to purr with anticipation. She felt a spot between her thighs tickle her with heat and an itch to be touch…

His kiss was everything she had expected the rakehell Hotspur’s kiss to be and more, it was what she wanted it to be.

She went to war with herself and somehow found the ability to pull away abruptly. She put up her chin, “Am I to assume then, we have not negotiated a truce?”

His laughter resonated on the breeze, and she found herself smiling in spite of the frown she tried to maintain. He said, “Must it be one or the other?”

“One or the other…” she answered firmly.

“Then I think not,” he said brightly. “War it is, my lady, and to the victor go the spoils.”

She made a show of sighing heavily, “Well, you still needn’t worry I shall aim my cap your way. You are not at all the sort of man I am after.”

His pique set his jaw, and she had an urge to giggle, but managed to control herself.

“Oh, really? What sort of man are you after?”

She beamed mischievously. “What every girl wants, of course. A knight of the Realm, a hero, a man of principles and romance—a man who will always take her side…”

“He doesn’t exist,” retorted Tarrant harshly.

She looked at him sideways. “Then I am destined to be a spinster.” With this, she clicked her horse and took off into a heady canter.

He caught up to her in a moment, for she could see his black did not mean to be left behind, and they collected their horses and moved along head in head. They slowed as the field ebbed and the wooded path opened before them.

Taffy brought her horse to a stop and allowed him to graze on some nearby tall grass. “Oh, that was lovely,” she said breathlessly. “What a fine animal you have, my lord. But never say you ride him tamely in Hyde Park.”

“I’ve schooled Demon myself. He will go as sedately or as wildly as I ask of him.”

Again, she saw the arrogance, the self-confidence, the high opinion he seemed to have of himself. She bristled.

“Of course, how foolish of me to doubt you,” she said in mock meekness.

He looked at her sharply. When he did not remark on it, she was sure he thought she was poking fun at him.

“Tell me why it is that both your uncle, young though he is, and your brother allow you to go off alone like this … without even a groom in attendance?”