No man ever became extremely wicked all at once.
—JUVENAL
Victoria stood outside the stable door, listening to Flash recount to Jem, a stable lad of great credulity, one of his more outrageous adventures in London’s Soho. He finished with, “So, you see, Jemmy boy, if a mort’s attention flies away from you, if you ken what I mean, then whosh! And it’s yours, every coin the cove’s carrying. Nimble fingers and fast feet, that’s what’s needed, yes, sir. Did I tell you about the time I tried to lighten the captain’s purse?”
“What is this?”
She turned and smiled, a dazzling smile that made him draw in his breath. “Rafael. I thought you’d gone to St. Austell. Well, as near as I can tell, Flash is telling Jem all about the marvels of picking pockets in Lunnon town, and how’s it to be done, if you ken my meaning. His story of how he tried to relieve you of your sovereigns is next. I suppose I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but—”
He waved a negligent hand. “Actually, I just got back from St. Austell and—”
“I know, now you want us to prepare to leave for Falmouth. After luncheon? I do look forward to seeing your ship and meeting your people.”
“Er, yes. Actually, what I was going to say,” he continued, his voice lowered, “is that every time I think of yesterday afternoon, I want you again. Every time, Victoria, very much.”
She turned red, murmured unintelligible words, and scuffed the toe of her riding boots in the dirt.
“You’re enchanting, I’ve told you that many times. It isn’t yet time for luncheon, and even though I haven’t a kitchen floor like the one at Honeycutt Cottage, I do know of a very private glade, the ground covered with moss and soft grass, the area hemmed in with huge maple trees.”
Her heart began to pound. She licked her lower lip unconsciously, and he grew instantly hard. He wanted to grab her, tear her clothes off, and be damned. Instead, he held himself in iron control.
He wanted to kiss her here, now. They were not in clear view, but on the eastern side of the stable, no one in sight. “Victoria, come here.”
She came to him willingly, her expression one of anticipation. She slid her arms around his waist and stood on her tiptoes. His hands went from her arms around her back, bringing her even closer. Slowly he lowered his head and kissed her. Fiercely. Then he gentled, his tongue lightly stroking her bottom lip.
Victoria was stunned. She kissed him back, parting her lips, but still felt nothing. What had happened?
What was wrong?
“Rafael?”
He thrust his tongue into her mouth, probing, finding her tongue, and she drew back, her brow knitted as she stared in confusion up at him.
“I want you now, Victoria. Come along.”
“But this isn’t right,” she said, looking up at him. “No.”
He grabbed her wrist suddenly, pulling her off balance, and she fell against him. She felt his hardness against her belly, through her clothes, and saw the gleam of purpose in his eyes.
“Damien. I would that you speak to your brother. Would you look at him and Victoria, just look. There, by the stable, nearly making love for all to see.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “What are you talking about, Elaine?”
“I’m talking about Rafael and Victoria. I know they are married, but still, they shouldn’t be so very loose, don’t you agree?”
He stared at her, then quickly strode to the window. There was no sign of them.
“Damien? Whatever is the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said shortly. “Nothing at all. Your loose cousin and my brother have probably gone into the hayloft.”
Damien pulled her in his wake behind the stable, never loosening his grip on her wrist.
“Let me go, damn you. Now.”
“Victoria, love, come along. You know you want me—”
“I know, Damien, I know it’s you.” She jerked free of him, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “You’re despicable. Why, you’ve even taken his jacket and tied your neckcloth as he does. Did you sneak into our room?”