He thought of Lily again. His little sister.
The woman he was supposed to protect. He shivered as he thought of her.
“My lord?” Avery asked, her voice trembling.
“Call me Noah,” he said, attempting a light tone.
She didn’t nod or even murmur her agreement. Instead, she cocked her head to the side. “I felt you tremble. Are you afraid?”
He squeezed her shoulder tighter. Perhaps he should kiss her after all. After all these years, he was quite good at it and it would surely distract her. “I’m not afraid. I just caught a cold draft.”
She didn’t answer as she continued to stare up at him. The carriage stopped rumbling over stone and started bouncing on wooden slats. She leaned away from him then, peering out the window. “We’re headed north.”
He didn’t answer. She was right. The sun had started lightening the sky to the east. He contemplated her profile more clearly, the fullness of her lips, the slender column of her neck. He wished he wasn’t so aware of the delicate details of her face. Of her. “You should lay your head on my shoulder and get some sleep.”
She let the curtain fall from her hand. “I’m not that tired.”
He doubted that but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gave her arm a gentle tug. She leaned against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Once again, he wrapped the arm about her, settling her deeper against him as he too leaned back and to the side so they might stretch out a bit.
She was warm fitted against him, and her hand came to rest on his chest. It was a simple gesture of intimacy, but he stared down at her hand for the longest time. He’d known women for less time and done far more intimate acts. But somehow, this touch, her hand on his chest, filled him with an uncomfortable need to pull her even closer.
Chapter Three
When Avery woke, the sun was high in the sky, birds chirping away as distant voices drifted into the interior of the carriage. She lifted her head. Was it her imagination or was the carriage at a complete stop?
She rubbed her eyes. When had they stopped?
Her body was still pressed into Noah’s side, her hand resting on his chest. For its muscular firmness, it had made a lovely pillow. She flexed her fingers, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his clothing. He stirred underneath her, trailing his hand from her shoulder where it still rested down her arm to her elbow.
But he didn’t stop there.
His fingers pressed to the indent of her waist and then began tracing the flare of her hip.
Avery swallowed a yelp as tingling pooled in her core. She sat up quickly, pushing off the muscles she’d just been admiring.
The shove seemed to wake him more fully and he blinked open his eyes giving her a sleepy grin.
Had she thought the man handsome last night when he’d scowled? Like this he was…devastating. A woman could drown in that soft, sleepy look.
His hand was still on her hip and he gave the flesh a squeeze as his grin widened. “Good morning.”
“I believe it might be the afternoon,” she answered, looking back at his hand still lightly massaging her hip beneath her skirts. While the intimacy was disconcerting, the light touch continued to be delightful.
“Did you get any sleep?”
She stared down at him. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about where his hand had wandered? And what he was doing to her body and mind? “My lord,” she started. Then she rose from the bench to cross back to hers. Distance was best in this situation.
And that’s when she saw his breeches.
Her gasp filled the carriage.
His pants were rather fitted and…
Noah sat up straighter pulling his jacket down over his hips. “You seemed quite comfortable tucked against me, I’m assuming you did all right?”
“I don’t think…” Her face burned. Because she had been comfortable with his feel, his touch, his hand and even…
“Not going to answer my question?”
She sat down on the other bench with a decided plop. Her cheeks radiated heat as she looked at him across the small interior of the buggy. Drawing in a cleansing gulp of air, she attempted to collect her wits. “You’ve hardly answered a single one I’ve asked. I’m only returning the courtesy.”
He raised a brow, but his smile only grew wider.
“What’s so funny?” she harrumphed, feeling like a fool. He was completely comfortable with both touching her and whatever had been happening below his waist while she struggled for composure.
“I’m just noting that you’re not all that sunny when you wake. It’s good to know.”
She harrumphed again, crossing her arms. “I am perfectly sunny. These are extenuating circumstances, and your hands were wandering.”
He chuckled then, his ease only making her more uncomfortable. She had no plans to be with any man. The last thing she wished for was his touch to have so much affect on her.
“Forgive my hands. They were curious.”
“That is hardly an apology.”
He chuckled again. “We must be stopping to change the horses. Shall we get something to eat?”
“Fine,” she replied.
He reached across to the seat next to her, leaning close. So close, she could smell him again, a scent she’d become familiar with as she’d slept, but it still hit her nose with a mix of excitement and comfort. Leather and cigar and pine mingled together in a pleasant concoction.
He grabbed the satchel from next to her hip, his hand grazing her again. She pulled back a bit and he only chuckled louder, as he pulled the satchel onto his lap and pulled out her veil. “To protect your identity.”
She didn’t reach for the silky fabric. Partially because she didn’t wish to touch him. He’d knocked her off kilter with his feel, and his smell, and the ease
