The Deceptive Lady Darby (Lost Ladies of London 2)

The newcomer glanced at the man lying amid the foliage,

mumbling to himself and rubbing his chin. “I’m his lordship’s coachman. He wandered off, and I couldn’t find him.”

“Then I suggest you drag him back to the hole he crept out of,” Christian’s hard tone caused the coachman to step back, “else he’ll find himself buried in a permanent one.”

Rose peered around the broad expanse of Christian’s chest. “Was your master at the manor? Was there anyone else there with him?”

The coachman shuffled uncomfortably. “I just do as I’m told. It ain’t for me to comment on his lordship’s business.” The servant reached down and pulled his master to his feet. “Come on, my lord. Let’s get you back to the carriage.”

“But … but what about my dove?”

“Happen she’ll find her way back.”

They stood in silence and watched until the coachman and the crazed lord disappeared from view.

Christian swung around to face her. Puffs of white mist drifted up into the air as he struggled to regulate his breathing.

“You swore you’d stay at Everleigh.” His hands settled on her upper arms. He scanned her face, his beautiful green eyes holding a look of panic. “You gave me your word. What if I’d not come back when I did? What if Mrs Hibbet hadn’t seen you climbing the stile?”

Rose swallowed. “I needed to know you were safe. I needed to know you were not trapped in that burning building.” Tears welled, and her heart raced so fast she feared it might burst from her chest. “I just needed to see you.”

He stared into her eyes for the longest time. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

She didn't know what he meant or how to answer.

“On one hand, you make me feel like the strongest of men,” he continued. “I could race up a mountain, climb that damn tree. Punch any man who threatened to harm you. And yet inside …” He paused and shook his head. “Pay me no heed.”

She didn’t know why, but she stepped closer, wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. He held her close though said nothing. She could have stayed like that forever — warm, listening to his heartbeat, encircled in his strong embrace.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me either,” she muttered into his chest for she daren’t look into his eyes.

Oh, what a terrible friend she was. She should have been looking for Nicole. But every fibre of her being lived to hear his voice, craved his attention, his tender touch. This obsession would pass. A woman deprived of love surely latched on to any display of kindness. Genuine sentiment took months, even years to form.

So why could she not step away? Why did thoughts of kissing him fill her head?

“It’s my fault,” he said breaking the brief silence. “If I’d just left you to your work. If I’d done the honourable thing and—”

“Don’t say that.” She looked up at him. “I have never met a man with more integrity.”

He gave a mocking snort. “Rose, when I’m with you my thoughts are far from moral.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. She wanted him to dream about kissing her. She did not want this fantasy to end.

A weak chuckle escaped from her lips. “When I’m with you my thoughts are far from moral, too.”

Christian clenched his jaw as his breathing grew shallow. Energy sparked in the surrounding air. Blood pumped molten hot through her veins. He lowered his head, and she came up on her tiptoes, eager to meet him.

He stopped a mere inch from her mouth, and stared at her lips as if they were the most wondrous thing he’d ever seen.

His hands drifted down her back, daring to delve lower to cup her and cage her in his embrace. The first touch of his lips sparked a fire deep in her core. She clutched the lapels of his coat, pressed her aching breasts against his hard body. With light sweeps of his tongue, he teased her lips apart. Her eager tongue touched his, each stroke causing a strange pulsing between her legs. Heavens, his mouth was so warm, so wet, so utterly addictive. A growl resonated somewhere in his throat as their tongues tangled. Their ragged breathing obliterated all other sounds.

“We should not be doing this,” he whispered kissing her throat, nipping the sensitive skin below her ear.

“No, we shouldn’t.” A delicious shiver raced through her body, leaving her mind in a cloudy haze of lust and desire. “Don’t … don’t stop, Christian.”

He claimed her mouth in the same masterful way he did most things. Oh, she could not taste him deeply enough to satisfy the hunger clawing her belly. He balled the material of her dress in his fists. A cool breeze caressed her legs, and she gasped into his mouth when his hot hands traced a path up over her bare thighs.

“Christian.”