The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“Did my men know that before you set them the challenge?”

“Of course not. Surely you know that the art of surprise plays to one’s advantage.”

Fabian smiled. Her confidence roused his desire. How was he to demonstrate his swordsmanship when he could think of nothing but thrusting into her sweet body?

“Oh, I have a few surprises that might make this a far more exciting challenge.” Fabian gestured for Skinny to lend him the sword. Skinny obliged, and Fabian practised a few lunges, swung the sword around his head to loosen the muscles in his wrist. “But I anticipate it will be over in a matter of minutes.”

“Over confidence is as debilitating as a chink in a knight’s armour.”

“Is it over confidence or merely an accurate interpretation of my skill?” God, he’d missed her company. He missed the witty banter, missed the challenging glint in her eyes. Seeing her now banished the dull ache in his chest, the constant reminder that life without her was unimaginable now. Fabian caught himself. He’d not just missed her these last few days — he’d missed her these last eight years.

They took their positions and touched swords. He waited for her to strike first and countered her attack. They teased each other, tapping swords, trying surprise lunges. Lillian swiped the air with her rapier, the whipping hiss a means to intimidate. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in the sheer grace of her movements.

They clashed swords. He deliberately locked his blade against hers in order to close the gap between them. “Have you missed me, Lilly?”

“Perhaps I should ask you the same question. You’ve been gone for four days.”

“From your tone, I detect the answer is yes.”

They stood rigidly, their swords crossed. The sharp blades were the only thing stopping him from kissing her. Using brute strength, he forced her sword to the left and stole a kiss.

The surprise move threw her off balance. The men jeered. Lillian’s cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink and she swung at him, frustration evident. Fabian blocked the hit and drew them together again.

“Are you determined to put me in an early grave?” Fabian gazed at her lips, eager to taste them, to part them with his tongue and delve deep inside. “I almost expired on the spot when I saw you fighting with Skinny.”

She jerked her head, flicking away the lock of hair draped across her left eyebrow. “And I hardly slept a wink wondering where you were and what had happened to you.”

“So you were worried about me.” His smile faded when he noticed the cut above her brow. “What the hell happened to your eye?” Lord, he felt sick to his stomach. He was about to scold his men for their carelessness in combat, but the crusting around the wound confirmed it wasn’t fresh.

“I had an accident.” She knocked his sword aside, grabbed his waistcoat and kissed him roughly on the lips before stepping back and jabbing the rapier at him again.

Desire raged through his body. Anger fought to dampen his ardour. The internal war threw him off kilter. Fabian cursed himself for leaving her alone. And yet all thoughts turned to rousing a pleasurable sigh from her lips. Indeed, it took every ounce of concentration left to ward off Lillian’s attack.

“Did you have to leave me on my wedding night?” she blurted, as her blade slashed the air.

“Would I have left had it not been necessary?” Hot blood raced through his veins. He raised his sword and defended her attack. “There is no place I’d rather be than in your arms.”

Her mouth fell open, and her breath came in ragged pants. His comment proved too hard to defend. The sword slipped from her grasp.

Everyone gasped as they watched the outcome with eager anticipation.

“Is that the truth?” she whispered.

Fabian threw his sword to the ground. “You know I never lie.”

With some hesitance, she moved towards him. He opened his arms to welcome her and she ran the last few steps, jumped into his embrace and kissed him.

Nothing tasted as good as her lips. Somehow, she had gained confidence in her ability whilst he’d been away. She was the one to draw her tongue across the seam of his lips. She was the one moaning into his mouth as their tongues tangled.

“Come on now. Can you not see the competition is over?” Mackenzie whispered. “Be gone, you rowdy rabble.”

By rights, Fabian should tear his mouth away, carry his wife to their private chamber and continue what they had started. But he was held spellbound by the depth of her passion, held rigid by the powerful emotions filling his chest.

One man’s mutterings reached his ears. “I know she threw her sword down first, but in my book, the lady is the winner.”

Lillian broke contact. She stared into Fabian’s eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

“Do you want to continue this somewhere else?” He had to ask. It wouldn’t do to be presumptuous.