The Theft (Thornton 2)

"It suits you. Beauty and recklessness combined." Ashford paused, his thumbs caressing Noelle's cheeks. "We have a great deal to discuss—more than even I realized. But I don't want to tempt fate. So let's delay this conversation until later and, instead, head back to the manor. Before I give your father more cause to distrust me."

Another reluctant nod. "Will I see you at dinner?"

"At dinner—and perhaps at the card table afterwards." Noelle gave him a measured look. "Must I play with the ladies? All they do is cast random cards while they gossip. It's tedious and unchallenging. Not to mention that their wagers are pathetically low."

Ashford chuckled. "I take it you've witnessed countless such boring games at Farrington?"

"Countless. Other than those times when I play with Papa."

"In that case, we'll have to place you at a gentlemen's gaming table."

Noelle's whole face lit up. "Truly? You'll let me join them?"

"Could I stop you?" Ashford teased. "Besides, I've already boasted to my parents of your great skill. I hope you're as accomplished at whist as you are at piquet."

"Oh, I am. I won't disappoint you, I promise."

"Disappoint me?" He shook his head, all teasing having vanished. Slowly, sensually, his knuckles drifted over her cheeks, caressed the fine contours. "On the contrary, tempête, I suspect you'll exceed my wildest expectations—and not only at the gaming table."

Noelle's insides melted. She stared up at Ashford, entirely aware of his underlying message, wondering just how much of it was mere flirtation and how much of it an expression of his intentions.

She couldn't wait to find out.

A provocative silence swelled between them, broken by the rustling of a squirrel as it darted up a tree to seek shelter—a blatant reminder that dusk was descending.

"Damn." Ashford sucked in his breath. "Let's go inside." He withdrew his hand, his expression as taut as his tone. "Because in another minute I'll be discarding whatever good intentions I still possess."

"I wouldn't mind," Noelle admitted.

Something flickered in those amazing eyes. "Wouldn't you?" he murmured huskily.

"No." She searched his hard, masculine features, trying to discern his reaction. "Does that disturb you?"

"No," he confessed, bringing her palm to his lips. "It excites me. You excite me. Far more than you should." He pressed his forefinger to her lips, stifling the protest she was about to utter. "Later," he promised softly, easing her in the direction of the manor. "We will continue this—later."

"The conversation or its essence?" she asked.

A dark smile. "Both."

* * *

Chapter 6

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Dinner was an elegant affair, enjoyed by the several dozen guests who had already arrived. The entire Thornton family was in attendance, except Ashford's younger sister Laurel, who Noelle learned was recovering from childbirth and had, therefore, remained at home with her husband, their two-year-old daughter, and their newborn son.

Juliet, Ashford's twin, was a stunning woman with tawny, upswept hair, steel grey eyes, and a quick, witty tongue—the perfect counterpart to her handsome, dry-humored husband, Carston. Blair and Sheridan, Ashford's two brothers, were both impossibly handsome, although each in a different way. While Blair boasted classic aristocratic features and brooding forest green eyes, Sheridan exuded a roguish sort of charisma, with twinkling grey eyes and a devilish grin that made you wonder what mischief he was contemplating.

The duke, who was an older replica of Ashford, sat at one end of the endless mahogany table; the duchess, one of the loveliest, most gracious ladies Noelle had ever met, at the other. Noelle herself was seated near the duchess and among Ashford's siblings, something she thoroughly enjoyed because it gave her the opportunity to get to know them. Ashford, on the other hand, was seated way down at the other end, alongside the duke and, interestingly enough, her father. Chloe had eaten earlier with Juliet's children, an utterly enchanting experience, according to the rushed description Chloe had given Noelle when they'd passed each other in the hall. Chloe's verdict was that Cara was a darling to look after, and Lucas—though a year younger than she—was both intelligent and fascinating.

All in all, the young people's dinner had proven to be a rousing success.

Happily, the adults' meal was well on its way to following suit.

The formality of Markham's dining room, with its crystal chandeliers, gilded trim, and plush carpet, was belied by the relaxed chatter and careless teasing taking place at Noelle's end of the expansive mahogany table. Juliet and her brothers kept up a lively banter—so lively, in fact, that on several occasions Noelle almost managed to forget Ashford's presence at the other end of the table.

Almost.