The Stablemaster's Daughter by Barbara Devlin

Author:Barbara Devlin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Scarsdale Publishing, Ltd
Published: 2017-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Yaa!” Ernest flicked the reins, and his team soared across the meadow, with Barrington just keeping pace. Holding tight, Henrietta squealed, as they rounded the curve, and when he let the blacks have their heads, his phaeton left Barrington in the dust. The pair charged forth, veering from left to right, and Ernest’s heart pounded in his chest. By the time they reached the rise in the lane, which marked the end of the race, there was no question as to the winner, and Ernest beamed with pride.

“Oh, my lord, that was thrilling.” Shifting, Hen momentarily rested her palm to his thigh, and his loins went up in flames, before she flinched and snatched free. With an arresting blush in her cheeks, she glanced toward the rear, as she clasped her hands in her lap, and he vowed, then and there, to maintain her breathtaking smile for the rest of their lives. “Apologies.”

“Little bird, never apologize for touching me, because I belong to you.” He leaned close and whispered, “How I look forward to the day you know me intimately.”

“Ernest, stop.” Despite her reproach, she grinned, and he could not resist baiting her. “You, sir, are a reprobate.”

“Only with you, and do you not wish to know me?” As Barrington neared, Ernest winked. “Are you not curious?”

“You know I am.” When she fixated on his mouth, he tensed. “And I—”

“Well, that was a miserable debut, and I am rather disappointed.” Barrington pulled alongside, drew rein, and frowned, as he assessed the bays. “They need a bit of work, so enjoy your victory, however brief.”

“I challenge you to a rematch, any time.” Ah, it was as days of old, as Barrington baited Ernest. “Perhaps, you would like to continue to the bluffs? You may have more luck.”

“I need no luck, little brother.” With a flick of his wrist, Barrington turned his team. “Now, I shall return to Garring and let my beautiful bride nurse my wounds, as she excels at her special brand of succor.”

Waggling his brows, he offered a mock salute and then urged the bays into a trot. Alone with Henrietta, Ernest swooped, and she shrieked, as he hauled her into his lap and kissed her. As usual, he ignited the instant they touched.

Fire poured through his veins, pooled in the pit of his belly, traveled south, and he erupted. Unleashing the hunger he struggled to keep in check, he traveled a passionate path with his hands, inviting her to sample the fiery fruit of their shared ardor, and she did not disappoint him.

For several heated, groping, desperately intense minutes, he ravished his lady, and she resisted not, as she speared her fingers into his hair and teased his tongue with hers, until, at last, he ended their tryst, before he took her beneath the sky.

“I want you, sweet Henrietta.” As she clung to the lapels of his hacking jacket, she inhaled a shivery breath, and he tightened his hold. “Such that I cannot trust myself to behave when I am near you.

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