The Theft (Thornton 2)

Noelle's lips twitched. "Two. I insisted on that when I was a child."

"I don't blame you."

A rustle from within the cluster of trees interrupted them, and Cara tugged at Noelle's skirts. "We'd better hurry or we'll get caught."

"I hear you, moppet," came an all-too-recognizable baritone, drawing nearer with each word. "And I suggest we head back to the manor. Your mama will worry herself sick if we're out here after dark."

Cara's eyes widened. "What time is it?" she hissed to Noelle.

"About half after four, I think," Noelle whispered back. "Uncle Ashe is right. Mama will be upset."

Cara backed off in the direction of the manor. "You finish the game for me—okay, Noelle? Better yet, start a new one." She pressed a conspiratorial forefinger to her lips, lowering her voice to a hush. "Tell Uncle Ashe I'm making a dash for the manor." Her dimples flashed. "Oh, and tell him I win." She shot off like a bullet.

"Where are you, moppet?" Ashford called, emerging from the trees.

"By now? Inside the manor," Noelle supplied, savoring the look of utter astonishment that crossed his face. "She said to tell you she wins."

"Noelle." He breathed her name in a way that made her bones turn to water.

"Hello, my lord. Your niece is precious. We had a lovely chat, during which she instructed me to take over her p

art in your game." Noelle had no idea what she was saying. All she knew was that she couldn't tear her eyes off Ashford. Even mussed, his hair and clothing tousled from running about with a child, he was magnificent.

He strode right over to her, capturing both hands and bringing them to his lips. "When did you arrive?"

"A few minutes ago." She stared at his mouth as it brushed her palms, shivering at the incredible sensations caused by his lips against her skin. His effect on her was astounding—even more so than a fortnight ago. "I never got farther than the entranceway. I heard your niece playing… I was restless… I stepped out for some air… I…" She inhaled sharply. "I came out here looking for you," she confessed in a rush.

Tiny flames flared in Ashford's eyes. "Damn propriety to hell," he muttered. Abruptly, he drew Noelle against him, tipping up her chin and covering her mouth with his. "God, I've dreamed of doing this."

Noelle was sure her knees would give out. She clutched Ashford's forearms, her lips tingling at their first contact with his. His mouth was warm, insistent, molding to hers in a series of slow, drugging kisses she felt to the tips of her toes. Beginning lightly, coaxingly, the kisses intensified until they were heated explorations, his lips urging hers to part. As if in a dream, she complied, opening to the penetration of his tongue, moaning softly as his tongue captured and caressed hers, his arms tightening like steel bands around her, drawing her closer.

Then, forcibly, almost against his will, Ashford tore his mouth away, his gaze probing hers with fiery intensity. "I know I should apologize," he stated flatly, his arms still holding her close. "But I have no intentions of doing so. Not given the number of times I've imagined doing that since I left you at the station."

"I'm glad," Noelle managed, her entire body trembling with reaction. "Because an apology is the last thing I want."

"Should I ask what the first thing is?"

"Not until I can form a coherent thought."

Ashford's chuckle was a warm breath against her overheated skin. "Does that mean you're as glad to see me as I am to see you?"

"I think it's safe to say that, yes." Slowly, Noelle eased herself away, inclining her head quizzically. "Did you ask your parents to invite my family to their charity ball?"

"Yes." Ashford's reply was as direct as Noelle's query. "I hope you don't mind." A grin. "You did imply that I should find a way for us to see each other."

Laughter danced in Noelle's eyes. "Yes, I did, didn't I? And the method you chose was most creative."

A mock bow. "I'm pleased you approve."

"Oh, I do." Her smile faded. "Unfortunately, Papa doesn't."

"So I gathered." Reluctantly, Ashford released her, his arms dropping to his sides. "What's more, I don't think my keeping you out here, unchaperoned, for any length of time will endear me to him. I'd best escort you back to the house."

Noelle nodded, lowering her lashes and making no attempt to disguise her disappointment.

"We'll have time together, tempête," Ashford assured her softly, hooking his forefinger beneath her chin and raising it to meet his gaze. "I promise."

Her smile returned. "Tempête? That's the first time I've heard the word 'tempest' translate into something so poetic."