Chapter 12
"I look ridiculous," Anna grumbled as she smoothed her hands down the front of a pair of Tristan's old breeches. "I'm not wearing them. Heavens, if Victor were alive, he would shoot me where I'm standing."
"But he's not alive, so you may do as you please. They look fine to me."
Marcus lounged back in the chair behind his desk, folded his arms across his chest and considered her attire. The breeches were far too baggy around the knees though he was more preoccupied with the way they hugged the lush curve of her hips. He had noticed her shapely ankles the moment she had walked in and so perhaps was somewhat biased.
"Well, they don't feel fine," she huffed.
"Turn around and let me look at them." Curiosity and the thrum of desire forced him to be bold, yet he tried to maintain a neutral tone. In her naiveté, she turned, threw her hands in the air in frustration and offered him the most delightful view. "Is it that they're too tight?" he asked, although, in his expert opinion, they enhanced the soft round cheeks to perfection.
"Perhaps it's the pale material," she complained. "But I feel as though my legs are bare."
A vision of her creamy limbs flashed into his mind. They were long, extremely flexible, the fleshy part of her inner thighs like plump pillows made to cushion his muscular limbs as he thrust hard inside her.
Damn it all. After tasting her lips, he'd thought of nothing else all night.
"I'll say it again. I think they look perfectly respectable." His voice sounded strained, an octave or two higher. "Perfectly suitable for what we've got planned."
She shook her head defiantly as she swung back round to face him. "No. I'm changing."
He almost groaned, dropped to his knees and begged her to reconsider. "You must do what you feel is best. But know we will be walking half a mile or more through the woods in the dark. We may even venture down to the shore. There's a cave I wish to examine which means we will be climbing a few rocks."
If that wasn't enough to convince her, he didn't know what would.
"I'll be fine," she shrugged. "I'll lose the petticoat and stays, wear sturdy boots."
Heaven help him.
The woman knew exactly what to say to torment and tease. Had there been monks still living in the monastery he had no doubt they'd fall prey to her feigned innocence as a means of seduction.
Marcus swallowed. "Won't you be cold?" he asked knowing she would only have to say the word, and he would soon warm her body.
"Not during such vigorous activity."
Was she deliberately trying to provoke a reaction?
"A good walk through the woods does wonders to get the blood pumping," she added.
His blood seemed to pump only in one direction, pooling in the only part of his anatomy that mattered.
"I shall ready the horses while you change." If he didn't put some distance between them, he would do something foolish, something he might regret.
He opened the desk drawer, removed his leather-bound notebook and pencil. Dudley Spencer's most recent letter caught his attention. He had written again requesting information regarding Miss Beaufort's whereabouts and would not cease until satisfied. The gentleman was nothing if not persistent, and Marcus did not care to be reminded of the debt he owed them.
"Horses? Are we not riding together?"
Marcus could not decide if her tone held a hint of relief or disappointment.
"I need to know you're free to leave if I am intercepted during our investigation."
She raised her chin, made no comment as to the inconsistency of his argument compared to the previous night, and simply said, "Oh."
He stood, the throbbing bulge in his breeches had eased somewhat. His need to uncover the information Dudley required being enough to dampen his ardour.
As she opened the door to leave, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Just so we're clear. Despite what occurs this evening. I would not leave you under any circumstances."
The words hit him like a hard punch to the jaw. Similar words had left his lips once, spoken to the mother who had given her love so freely. He nodded as he could not form a response. Closing his eyes briefly, he exhaled slowly as she left the room and closed the door behind her. Anna Sinclair affected him like no other woman before. Her loyalty knew no bounds. It was a rare quality, something he knew he should treasure.