One Week As Lovers (Somerhart 3)

Oddly though, his sweetness did not seem to extend to his lovemaking. He might be thoughtful, but he was certainly not gentle.

Cynthia ran a hand across her forehead and wondered why this didn’t disturb her. Her first lover hadn’t been gentle either, but for some reason Nick’s rough hands excited her into a strange bundle of shaking nerves.

Well, she didn’t know much about it. Likely, they were all the same. But Nick wasn’t as large as James had been, and the difference in size could only recommend him. With Nick it would be easier. Better.

“Nick,” she called as he reached the sand of the beach and paused.

He held up a hand and knelt down.

Puzzled, she hurried to catch up. “What is it?”

“Hoof prints.”

She skidded to a halt, her heart turning over in alarm. “Are you sure?” But she could see them herself now, clear in the dry sand, and even clearer at the water’s edge.

“These are fresh, Cyn.” He stood and stepped farther out onto the sand to peer down the beach. “Stay there.”

She backed up until her shoulders touched rock and watched as Nick strode straight out into the water to get a better view. Before the water could reach the top of his boots, he turned and surveyed the coast.

“I don’t see anything, but there’s only one set of prints here. Whoever he is, I don’t think he’s come back yet. We’d better go.”

“He might have only ridden to the next trail.”

Nick stared down the beach, eyes narrowed. “It’s not worth taking the chance.”

“But we’re going the other way, and a rider couldn’t make it past that outcropping. We’ll be fine.”

He turned his narrowed eyes on her. “I don’t like it.”

“As usual.” She set off toward the north, confident he’d follow. Unsure as he was about this search, she could tell he was enjoying the adventure of it. He’d taken to whistling as they walked. But there was no whistling behind her today. They both ran.

Sand sprayed up her legs with each step. The faster they ran, the more likely it seemed that someone chased after them. Fear spread through her.

With her heart beating so hard, it seemed to take only seconds to get to the outcropping, and her legs lifted her easily up the rocks. Nick was right behind her. As soon as she made it to the far side, Cynthia dropped to her knees in the sand and gulped for air.

“Good God,” Nick gasped. “I believe you’re faster than I.”

“It’s that…civilized…London lifestyle.”

“Mm. Too many biscuits with my tea.”

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“I was thinking more of…brandy and whores.”

Nick smiled. “I was too.”

It took her a moment. “Biscuits,” she murmured and then collapsed in laughter.

He grinned so widely she could see his back teeth.

“You’re doing a terrible job of preserving my delicate sensibilities, milord.”

“Well, if you’re saucy enough to speak of whores, there’s not much I can do for you.”

“True.” She was still laughing as he helped her to her feet, but she noticed the way he glanced at her mouth, as if all his earlier words had been futile protests against his true desires. His smile wavered for only a brief moment before springing back to full life.

When they began to stroll, Nick kept hold of her hand, centering Cynthia’s whole world on their clasped fingers. It felt like spring today, and she imagined she and Nick were out for a romantic stroll.