“I know, lad,” Avery said in a low voice as he patted the horse’s neck. “I’ll return in but a moment.”
The afternoon shadows were growing longer, and Avery moved carefully to avoid being seen. This time of day was not the most active for the servants of the household, but there was sure to be someone about.
Each window he peered into revealed nothing more than empty furniture and the odd maid or footman. He grew more concerned when he looked through the window on the west side of the house. It was apparently the drawing room, and Lady Chesterfield sat alone, having tea as she wrote at a small table beside the settee.
Why was Miss Ramsey not there? His tension grew. Surely she’d returned from her ride with the duke by now. Had one of Prachett’s men accosted her?
He crept around the back of the house, careful to give the servants’ entrance a wide berth. A small garden lay before him, its plantings beginning to burgeon with life. He’d just risen to look through another window when a sound caught his ear.
“Pawpaw, what am I supposed to do?”
He whirled without a sound, kneeling behind a holly bush. He was careful of the leaves this time. Leaning to the side, he found the source of the voice.
Leah was there, her back to him as she sat on an old stump. Her attention was focused on something in her lap.
Relief flooded him. She was here, and she was alone. He’d remain a moment longer until he could verify her well-being, then he’d take his leave without her knowledge. He hoped.
“Maybe Mrs. Knightsbridge was wrong about all this.” She sighed, tilting her head skyward. A yellow curl kissed her cheek as it swayed with her movement. His breath caught as she was silhouetted in the sun’s dying glow. Had there ever been a woman so lovely, so perfect?
Without conscious thought, he was suddenly moving toward her, abandoning his hiding place. The inner voice that had kept him from seeking out her touch was silenced as if it had never existed. He only knew that he had to kiss her, and kiss her now, before she was lost to him forever.
The sound of his footsteps on the path grabbed her attention, and she looked up, surprise on her face. Her beautiful blue eyes were confused—and then excited.
“Avery,” she said, rising and turning to him. A small portrait was gripped in her hand, and he caught a glimpse of an old man with Leah’s eyes standing by a strange carriage. She must have been speaking to the portrait.
“Leah,” he breathed, and without another thought he pulled her into his arms. Stiffening with surprise, she froze at first, but then melted into him, her softness against his hardness fitting perfectly. Her soft lips parted on a breath, and he drew her in, deep into his lungs. His tongue traced the soft edge of her lower lip, and he groaned deep in his chest at the sweet taste of her.
His body stirred, his hands roaming the planes of her back, then lower to cup her buttocks. Blood surged to his groin as she returned his kisses, sucking on his tongue and tangling her fingers in his hair. He pressed his hips into hers.
She writhed, as if she couldn’t get close enough. His hand caressed up the curve of her waist to settle just beneath one of her breasts, its hardened nipple practically begging to be touched.
Leah erased any moment of doubt, pressing his hand against her breast. He released her mouth, but only to let his kisses trail down the column of her throat. She tilted her head back in abandon.
“Avery,” she whispered, hitching a leg over his hip. God, her core pressed against his erection now, so hot it almost burned. “I want you.”
The words were exactly what he wanted—no, needed—to hear.
He nipped at the tender flesh of her neck, wanting to mark her, claim her like an animal would. Her mewl of passion only spurred him on. Dipping his head, he trailed kisses down the delicate curve of her shoulder, to the neckline of her lovely blue gown.
The creamy swells of her breasts begged for attention, and he was loath to deny them.
Cupping one breast, he worshipped the other with his tongue and teeth, licking and nipping kisses on the tender skin. She pulled at his hair, ran her hands down to his hips, brushed the stiffness in his breeches.
God, it was not enough. He needed to see her, all of her. He needed to sink himself deep into her, feel her as she welcomed him into her bed and her body.
Into her life.
Forever.
His eyes flew open. He staggered backward, dropping all contact with Leah. She swayed, nearly falling as he fought to regain his senses. He’d been dreaming. He’d been mad to do that to her. He could not be what she needed.
“Leah, Miss Ramsey, I…” He had no words. His manhood throbbed with frustrated lust, but he ignored it. “My apologies, Miss Ramsey.”
“Don’t stop. Please…” Her hand trembled as she pressed it to her swollen lips. Her eyes were wide, dazed, and wanting.
“I should never have forced myself upon you so.” Avery bowed deeply, cursing himself. “You have my sincerest apologies. It shall not happen again.”
“Wait just a goddamn minute.” She glared at him. “You didn’t force anything on me. Couldn’t you tell how much I wanted that?”
He glowered at her. “There is no need to prevaricate, Miss Ramsey. The fault is mine.”
She stomped toward him, mayhem plain in her gaze. “You’re going to answer some questions for me in a minute, but first you need to get something through your thick caveman skull. I wanted that. I want you. You didn’t trick me into kissing you, so get over yourself.”
His frustration and confusion battled for the upper hand. “Over…myself?”
She sighed. “Forget it. Did you get into a fight? Because no offense, but you look like hell.” Her brow furrowed as her gaze raked over his still-swollen cheek.
He set his jaw. “It is no concern of yours.”
She barked a bitter laugh. “The hell it isn’t!” She lost some of her vitriol as she pressed a warm palm to his cheek. “Listen, Avery. I’m not sure what’s between us right now, but I do know that I care about you. I can’t help if you keep shutting me out.”
He wanted so badly to turn his face into her palm and press a kiss there. To lay his head in her lap and tell her he’d put her in danger. To apologize for jeopardizing her chance at happiness with the duke.
“Miss?” A young female voice floated into the garden. “Are you here, miss?”
“Shit, that’s Muriel.” Leah tossed an irritated glance over her shoulder. “Can you wait here while I get rid of her?”
“I must go,” he said, disguising his relief at the interruption. He had to get away from Leah before he lost his head again. She wreaked havoc on his already tenuous control.
She looked at him, hurt in her gaze. His heart ached, but he stayed motionless.
“Okay. See you later, I guess.”
She walked away, leaving him alone by the stump of the old oak.
He’d bungled that properly.
Leah tried like hell to keep from crying as she walked away from Avery. The tears weren’t so much from sadness as they were from being frustrated, pissed, and straight up horny. The man had just left her with the feminine equivalent of blue balls.
“Sorry, I needed some fresh air,” Leah said to the maid. “What’s up?”
“Your new gowns have arrived from the modiste. Lady Chesterfield bade me fetch you.”
“More new gowns?” Leah pressed a hand to her forehead. A monster headache was starting to zoom around her skull like a
Muriel laughed as she led Leah into the house. “Miss, Lady Chesterfield would not dare to arrive at a ball in a previously worn gown, and she would not see her protege do so either.”
