On a Wild Night (Cynster 8)

Narrowing his eyes, he locked them on hers, then brusquely gestured down the park. "I suggest we get on."

Her smile deepened, but she acquiesced with a nod. They set off at a trot, heading for the tan track.

He watched her as they rode, conscious of a need to simply let his gaze rest on her, uncertain from where such a need sprang. She rode well, hands and posture assured, apparently unconscious of his gaze.

As before, the park was deserted; as before, they sprang their horses the instant they gained the tan. Side by side, they thundered through the morning, the air sharp, biting as they flew through it, drawing color into her cheeks and eyes. When they slowed, the mare danced, eager for more; Amanda steadied her and brought the horse alongside his.

They turned back up the park to where the groom waited under the tree. Martin watched her still, aware to his fingertips of how alive she was, with the dawn just bringing the gold to her hair, deepening the blue of her eyes. Feminine vitality incarnate-he was conscious of the tug, the visceral attraction.

She glanced his way. He met her gaze, brimming with life and a still innocent joy in all life's pleasures, no matter how small, no matter how unsophisticated. No matter how private.

He looked ahead. "Richmond. It'll be fine tonight." He glanced at her. "Can you steal away again?"

'Tonight?" She worried her lower lip, clearly running down her list of engagements. "My parents are attending the Devonshires' dinner, but Amelia and I cried off."

"Amelia?"

"My sister. We often go to our own engagements these days, so tonight, indeed, I can easily be free."

Martin reined in. "Very well. Tonight. But I have a stipulation."

She considered him. "What stipulation?"

"That you tell no one where or with whom you're spending your evening. Furthermore"-he locked his gaze with hers-"I will agree to escort you to your four selected entertainments on condition that you will not, this Season, add to that list, and that you will not at any time tell anyone of those entertainments or of your association with me."

Amanda didn't reply immediately, too busy evaluating the proposition, too busy keeping a too-delighted, too-victorious smile from her lips. When she was sure she could manage both, she met his gaze. "Very well. I agree."

The roan shifted; he steadied the horse. "I'll meet you at the corner of North Audley and Upper Brook Streets. A black carriage will be waiting."

"A closed carriage?"

"Most definitely. We'll switch to my curricle once away from fashionable eyes."

She smiled, let her gaze dwell on him, then confidingly stated, "Such a relief to be in the hands of one who knows."

His eyes narrowed; she smiled more brightly and saluted. "Until tonight, then. What time?"

"Nine. Everyone else will be at the dinner table then."

She allowed her smile to widen, laughed at him with her eyes, then shook the reins and headed for the gates-before she became too flown on success and gave herself away.

"It's working perfectly! Absolutely perfectly-he can't help himself."

"How so?" Amelia climbed onto Amanda's bed and slumped beside her. It was late afternoon, a time when they often spent an hour alone.

"He's so like our cousins, just as I suspected. He can't stop himself from protecting me."

Amelia frowned. "From what? You're not doing anything too dangerous, are you?"

"Of course not." Amanda flopped back on the bed so she didn't have to meet Amelia's eyes. Attending the Corsican Consul's soiree had been the most risky thing she'd ever done; she'd been very much aware of that as she'd chatted to Leopold Korsinsky and prayed Dexter would come to her side. Reggie had refused to escort her there, but she'd had to go. Amelia had explained her disappearance from Lady Cavendish's drawing room on the grounds of a headache, and, thanks to Dexter, to the accuracy of her perceptions of him, all had gone well. As long as he was in the same room, she would never be in danger. "It's more a case of creating the potential for danger, at least in his mind. For him, that's more than enough."

"So tell me-what exactly are you doing?"

"I can't tell-he made it a condition that I tell no one what we're about. Not even that it's him escorting me, but you already know that."

Amelia's frown deepened, but then eased. "Well, after all these years, you should know what you're doing." She settled deeper into the bed.

"How's your plan progressing?" Amanda asked.