Bound By Temptation by Lavinia Kent

Author:Lavinia Kent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Even four days later, Masters did not know why he had spoken. It would have been by far the wiser move to let her go. But then he continually acted unwisely around her.

If he had just let her go, he would never have found himself in this ridiculous position of riding in circles in the park. She was late. Nothing else she did made life easy, why should something as simple as a stroll in the park be any different?

He rode past the same tree for the fifth time. Soon every newly leafed branch would be engraved in his memory. Where was the blasted woman? The plan was simple—she would walk by with her companion, he would dismount and join them, leading his horse.

Clara had explained that meeting in this way lacked all the pressure of setting an actual appointment to stroll. There would be no expectations and no need to follow the exacting strictures of public courtship.

And she had said with great emphasis, because they would be in public, she would be an acceptable chaperone. She had winked as she said it, letting him know that her standards would allow for a certain permissiveness of behavior.

His mind had immediately been full of hot, hungry kisses behind the pines. It reminded him of being a schoolboy trying to steal a kiss from one of the maids. He could only hope that he met with greater success now than he had on that occasion. There was something deliciously wicked about the whole situation.

He could picture Clara’s surprise as he pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree, feel her lips open beneath his in a gasp of surprise, smell the sweet smell of cinnamon wafting from her hair—only it wouldn’t be Clara.

It would be Miss Thompson—he believed. It was so impossible to keep the young chits straight. Yesterday, he had met with Clara and Miss Wilkes while shopping and invited them for ices.

Who ate ices in May? He shivered and drew the collar of his coat closer. There was that tree again, six times.

Then last night it had been dancing and polite chatter. He knew he had danced a reel with Miss Thompson. It must be she that he had planned to meet.

Then there she was, just as he rounded the next bend of the path. Half her wardrobe must be blue. Today it was the bright blue of a robin’s egg fogged slightly by early morning mist. Gads, when had such description begun to enter his mind? Her pelisse was blue. He would leave it at that.

Her hair was brushed high and caught at the crown of her head, elongating the elegant length of her neck. He’d never noticed her neck before, how long and graceful its lines were. A bonnet hung loosely down her back. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her wear a proper hat. Clara liked her freedom too much for that.

He allowed his gaze to drop lower. The close-cut lines of her pelisse emphasized every curve.

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