Stolen Away: A Regency Novella by Shannon Donnelly

Author:Shannon Donnelly [Donnelly, Shannon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780985026547
Publisher: Cielito Lindo Publishing
Published: 2015-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

Smothering a yawn with her hand, Chloe sagged against Fitzjoy. She did not want to lean against him, but she was so tired of this hard-seated gig. With the sun bright and the day warm, she had pulled off her cloak and had bunched it under her, but even that did not help. Hunger growled in her stomach. She thought that if she stood up now she would fall down, for her legs seem as stiff as the leather underneath her.

“Can we not stop?” she pleaded. She had asked before. And she got the same answer as ever. A wicked grin. But this time he also tucked his arm around her.

She stiffened. She ought to push him away. Or slap him. Or tell him to remove his touch from her person. However, his arm made it so easy to snuggle against him. And she could shift her weight a little now to a more comfortable position.

“Please? I’m ever so famished.”

He tightened his hold. “You won’t die of missing a meal. That much I know.”

“But I do not want to miss a meal. And I am parched beyond parched. Can we at least not stop for something cool to drink?”

Fitzjoy glanced at her. He looked up at the sky. A few hours of daylight left yet. Thank God for summer. He looked at the placid gelding who seemed to have the endurance of Job, if not the speed his four legs ought to warrant. Well, perhaps a short stop would not go amiss. He could use a stretch of the legs himself.

At the next crossing of a river, he guided the gelding off the road and pulled it to a halt, having to haul hard on the reins to stop the beast from its perpetual steady walk. After setting the brake, he jumped down. He turned and held up his arms to lift Chloe down.

His hands closed on the soft curve of her waist. Such a slip of a thing, really, he thought as she leaned into his hold. He swung her down, enjoying it more than he should. Golden curls bobbed, and her dress rustled, releasing a flowery scent that mixed with the warm summer air around them. She took an unsteady step, so he tightened his hold on her again. Just to steady her. Nothing more. He didn’t intend another kiss, but he found himself wanting one just the same.

She had a mouth made for tasting, lush and ripe and red. A mouth to tempt any man to his downfall. Ah, he’d have to watch that mouth of hers. And the rest of her as well, or she’d have him losing his wits. But Tyrone Michael Fitzjoy never did that. He was a man wise to the world. A man with ambitions. A man who only needed the funds for the scope of his vision.

She would give him that. Her and her tidy fortune. And her lack of male relatives to come after him. Oh, there was some uncle or other, but not much of a guardian really.

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