by Candace Camp
Alexandra looked at him oddly, but said nothing. “A lord?” The rider laid a hand over his heart in an gesture of awe. His dark eyes danced, and his lips curved in mocking smile. “I am—overwhelmed.”
“I doubt that,” Sebastian retorted dryly.
“It is most tedious to be lost,” the stranger went on, ignoring Sebastian’s comment. “Perhaps we can be of assistance.”
“Yes!” Alexandra agreed quickly. “That would be very nice.”
“But forgive me.” The man made a show of looking around. “How did you come to this place?”
“Balloon.”
“I beg your pardon.” The man looked at them blankly, and Sebastian felt a certain sense of satisfaction.
“We came by balloon,” Sebastian explained. “You know—in the air.”
“Yes, of course, I know. But where is the balloon? And is it not usual to have people on the ground? Followers?”
“It was an accident,” Alexandra explained. “We didn’t mean to take off in the balloon, but that man attacked me, and he made them untie the ropes. Of course Sebastian knocked him out of the basket—”
“But of course.” The highwayman’s grin broadened.
“But it was too late. We were already going up by then. So we had no one to follow us, and we were blown off course from the rest of the balloons. We didn’t know how to operate it, you see.”
“It’s not a common skill,” the other man agreed reasonably.
“Of course everyone will be most worried about us by now, so we have to get back to London as soon as possible. If you would be so good as to tell us how to get to a village where we could hire a coach or catch the stage—”
The man leaned over. “For you, my lady, anything.” He cast a roguish look at Sebastian. “Do not look so black, my lord husband, I mean no harm. She is too beautiful to resist a little flirting.”
“Thank you,” Alexandra told him. “You are very kind.”
The man swung down from his saddle. He was tall and slender, broad-shouldered in his dark, loose shirt. There was, Alexandra noted, a pistol stuck through his belt. He was, she suspected, dangerous. However, he had also a certain grace and charm of manner, as well as an infectious grin.
He swept her an elegant bow. “Jack Moore, at your service, my lady.”
Alexandra couldn’t help but smile and bob a little curtsey in return. “Alexandra—”
“Lady Thorpe,” Sebastian interposed, moving between Alexandra and the man.
“Tomorrow I will take you to Evansford. The London stage comes through at ten. The stage tonight has already passed.” Another expression flitted across the man’s face, a kind of amusement, as if he knew a joke that no one else was in on.
Behind him one of the men made a low noise, and the horses shifted restlessly. Moore glanced at the men, then returned his gaze to Alexandra and Sebastian.
“Tonight you must be my guests. My house is not far, and you will be able to rest and refresh yourselves. And after a good’s night sleep, I shall escort you to the village.”
“We could not impose on you, sir,” Sebastian said firmly. “If you will just tell us which way the village lies, we will go there tonight.”
“No, I insist. It is far too long for a lovely lady such as your wife to walk. This part of the country is somewhat isolated. I have room in my house, and it will be most pleasant to have company.”
“You are too kind,” Sebastian began.
The man grinned. “There are many who would dispute that. But I cannot let a beautiful woman languish by the side of the road. You must come with us.” He paused, giving Sebastian a long, serious look. “You will come to no harm, you know. I give you my word.”
He held out his hand to Sebastian, and after a brief hesitation, Sebastian shook it.
“I think it sounds lovely,” Alexandra said, moving beside Sebastian. “A meal and a good night’s sleep will be just the ticket. You are very kind, Mr. Moore.”
“Thank you, my lady.” He smiled at her. “We are even so fortunate as to have an extra horse with us tonight. We, er, came upon it on the road.”
“That is indeed fortunate,” Sebastian commented wryly. He winced as Alexandra trod upon his foot.
“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “I have always found that things come along just when you need them the most. Like tonight, when you arrived so fortuitously.”
“It was fortuitous, indeed,” Moore replied. “It has been a while since I have had good conversation at the supper table. My lord, if you will mount our spare animal, I can easily take my lady up before me.” His eyes twinkled roguishly.
“Alexandra will ride with me,” Sebastian said flatly, his eyes narrowed, and he moved his feet a little farther apart, bracing himself.
Moore’s teeth flashed. “But of course your lady will ride with you. Everything will be quite proper.”
He walked with them to the spare mount, but before Sebastian could climb on the saddleless animal, Moore put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “But first, I regret, we must cover your eyes. It would be—let us say—awkward, for you to see the way we take. It is dark, I know, but still…” He shrugged expressively.
A little to Alexandra’s surprise, Sebastian acquiesced easily to the idea, allowing Moore to tie a black scarf around his eyes. Moore then gave him a leg up onto the horse. He tied another dark cloth around Alexandra’s eyes and lifted her onto the horse in front of Sebastian.
“There. Are you comfortable?”
“Fine.”
“Good. We will lead the horse. Do not worry.”
With those cheerful words, he returned to his horse, and in another moment their horse started forward. Sebastian’s arms went around Alexandra, and he twined his hands in the horse’s mane for purchase.
“Well, my dear,” Sebastian murmured in her ear, “you do introduce me to some interesting people. A highwayman now.”
“It’s not my fault we ran into him,” Alexandra protested in a whisper. “I was afraid you were going to offend him by refusing to go to his house.”
“I didn’t see a way out of it, frankly. We are in his power. At least he blindfolded us so we could not see the way. That is the most encouraging thing that’s happened to us. It means he’s not necessarily going to kill us.”
“I think I trust him,” Alexandra decided. “He seems a nice fellow.”
“Mm. A nice fellow who liberated someone’s horse tonight.”
They lapsed into silence, like the men around them. It was an odd sensation, Alexandra thought, to be sitting in the quiet, unable to see, the only noises those of the horses and the night, the only sensation Sebastian’s arms around her. She felt strangely safe and peaceful, almost content, yet at the same time there was in her a burgeoning heat, an intense awareness of Sebastian’s body against hers that seemed to be intensified by the loss of sight, as though her tactile sense had grown even stronger. She leaned against his chest, and she knew that it wasn’t all weariness that made her do so. She liked the feel of his hard bone and muscle, the scent of him, the stirring of his breath against her hair, the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath her. She sat flush against him, sideways on the horse, with her bottom wedged into the V of his legs, an intensely intimate position. And Alexandra did not think, from the way the heat of his body rose and the surge of flesh against her hip, that Sebastian was indifferent to her presence there, either.
Heat blossomed between her legs, and soon she was damp and aching and thinking about the night they had spent together. She wanted to do those things again, she knew, except that this time she wanted to take the wild ride to completion. It would be utterly scandalous to admit, but since that night, she had yearned to feel Sebastian inside her, to experience not only her pleasure but the completion of his, as well.
Alexandra turned her face into his chest as if she could still the flush she knew must be rising in her face. When she did, she found that all she could think about was his skin, his chest, and she wanted t
o see it bare, to feel it against her skin, her mouth. Her heart began to skitter, and her mouth was suddenly dry. It was dark. No one would see; no one would know. She hesitated, then threw caution to the winds. Her fingers crept up the front of his shirt to the button beneath her face. Sebastian stiffened at the movement. Stealthily, Alexandra unfastened the button, then moved to the one above it. Sebastian’s arms were suddenly as hard as iron around her, and she could hear his breath rasp in his throat.
She slipped her fingers between the edges of his shirt, touching his bare skin. His skin jumped beneath her hand. She drew tiny circles with her fingernail, then pressed her lips against his chest. He went utterly rigid. She could feel the pounding of his heart. Her tongue stole out, tasting his salty skin, and Sebastian made a soft, strangled noise.
He bent his head, so that his mouth was right at her ear. “Stop it, you little minx.”
But with his next breath he was kissing her ear, slipping the lobe into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth. He pulled away, burying his face in her hair.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he murmured.
In response, Alexandra wiggled her bottom fractionally closer to him. Sebastian stifled a groan. Alexandra was seized with the desire to rip his shirt off and trail kisses all over his chest. She knew that she could not, of course; it would be sheer madness.
She must be, she thought, a lewd and licentious person. How could she be thinking of such things when they were perhaps prisoners of a highwayman, unsure what would happen to them next? Yet she could not seem to help it.
With a sigh, Alexandra clasped her hands together in her lap and turned her face to the side. She could not bring herself to straighten and remove at least some of her body from contact with Sebastian’s, but she resolved not to cause any further mischief. A few minutes later, when Sebastian’s hand let go of the horse’s mane and slipped over her hip caressingly, she almost forgot her good intentions. She wanted to feel his hand on her breasts, her buttocks, her stomach, sliding all over her bare skin. She wanted to turn to face him and wrap her legs around his back like a wanton. Just the thought of doing so sent moisture flooding between her legs and her blood racing through her veins.
She could not, of course; she was well aware of that. She and Sebastian could not do anything overt. While she and he were both drifting in a sensual darkness, the rest of their party was not, and she certainly did not want to put on a show for these men. So she forced herself to stay still, even though her desire made her tremble. She felt Sebastian’s hand tighten into a fist against her thigh, and he ceased his sensual movements.
Alexandra had no clear idea of how long their trip took. It seemed somehow both interminable and terribly short. She would like to have stayed in Sebastian’s arms forever, yet at the same time, every moment seemed an agony of denial.
At last the horses came to a halt. A few moments later, a man’s hands were on her waist, lifting her from the mount. Then he was leading her forward, his hand firm around her upper arm. She stumbled once, but his strong grip kept her from falling. Then they were inside a house, their shoes clacking on the wooden floor. The door closed behind them, and someone removed her blindfold.
Alexandra blinked in the low light of the room, her eyes accustomed to total darkness. She looked for Sebastian and found him behind her. Moore was removing his blindfold, as well. His eyes opened and met hers, and she saw reflected in them the knowledge of what had happened between them on their ride. A flush rose in her cheeks, and she wondered if he considered her a low, lustful person.
Moore untied his mask, revealing a handsome face framed by thick black hair. His eyes were black, his features large and strong, dominated by a wide, sensual mouth. He smiled at his visitors, and he looked suddenly like a mischievous boy.
“Now, we must eat, and then I will show you to your room. I am sure you must be tired.”
An old serving woman shuffled in and out of the room, carrying in plates and bowls of food. She said not a word, just laid on extra plates at Moore’s request. They sat down to a surprisingly good meal, accompanied by an even better wine.
It was, strangely, an enjoyable meal. Their companion was clever and well-spoken, and as they talked, Alexandra began to think that he had been telling the truth when he had told them that he wanted the company. He asked about London and wanted to know the details of their adventure. He was full of curiosity about why Alexandra had been attacked, but when she started to talk about it, she realized that she could not tell him the facts without revealing that she was not married to Sebastian. It didn’t seem a wise idea to admit that Sebastian had lied.
She stumbled to a halt, saying lamely, “I, uh, we’re not sure why they happened. It may have something to do with the Countess.”
“The Countess?”
“Of Exmoor. I am, perhaps, related to her.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Exmoor? You are related to the Earl of Exmoor?”
“No—well, I mean, I guess I would be. Some sort of cousin, I guess.” She looked at him closely. “Why? Do you know him?”
His eyebrows soared upward, and he grinned roguishly. “I might have met the gentleman,” he admitted, his tone leaving little doubt that their meeting had ended with Moore in possession of the Earl’s purse.
“He is not a pleasant man,” Alexandra confided. She realized that the wine was loosening her tongue; she was not accustomed to drinking. She looked at Sebastian, who was watching the other man with a guarded expression. He did not seem to be at all affected by the drink.
Moore chuckled. “No, I did not find him to be so, either. But tell me, how came you, an American by your speech, to be related to Exmoor? Or to marry Lord Thorpe, for that matter.”
“The vagaries of fate,” Sebastian suggested.
“Mm.” Moore’s dark eyes went from Sebastian to Alexandra consideringly, and Alexandra had the impression that he did not completely believe in their marriage.
After the last course, Alexandra gratefully retired to the bedroom that Moore had ordered prepared for them. She was tired, and the wine had made her a little groggy, but, more than that, it was getting to be a strain to conceal the desire that throbbed beneath the surface. Her nipples were full and aching, and there was a yearning emptiness between her legs.
She looked at the bed and wondered what was going to happen tonight. They could not ask for separate rooms, not when Sebastian had assured the highwayman that they were married. But Alexandra could not imagine how she and Sebastian could spend the night in a bed together without touching. Just thinking about it, her nipples tightened.
Alexandra undressed and washed, but since she had no change of clothes, she had no choice but to slip on her chemise and an inner petticoat to sleep in. She looked at herself in the small mirror above the dresser. The pink-brown circles of her nipples showed through the material, the points thrusting against it. Lightly she touched them with her fingertips, remembering the way they had responded to Sebastian’s touch.
She sat on the side of the bed, listening to the men’s voices downstairs and wondering how long it would be before Sebastian came to bed. They were drinking, she supposed, and now and then she could hear a sudden bark of laughter. She wondered sourly if Sebastian planned to spend all night drinking with the man in order to avoid her. She curled up on the bed to wait.
It was there that Sebastian found her, sound asleep, two hours later when he came up to bed. He closed the door behind him and turned the lock, relieved to find that they had a key. He walked to the bed, swaying a little under the effects of the highwayman’s brandy, and stood looking at her.
Alexandra was lying on her side, her breasts pushing out of the top of her chemise. The thin material did little to conceal their size and shape or the saucily pointing nipples in their center. Her petticoat had slid up in her sleep, revealing her legs from the middle of her thighs down. He stood for a moment, looking at the curve of her calves and the long, slender line
of her thighs. Her legs were long. He supposed some men might have found her too tall, but all he could think about was those legs wrapped around him, locking him against her. The barely dormant desire that had been thrumming in him all evening rose to a pulsating level.
He ran his finger slowly up her leg, stopping at the hem of her petticoat. He knew that he wanted to move onward, to slide between her legs and seek the hot center of her femininity. He had drunk too much, trying to keep up with Moore, he told himself; he hadn’t his usual control. But he suspected that even if he had been stone cold sober, he would have been aching for Alexandra. He had wanted her from the moment he met her, and the past few days, since the night she had slept in his bed, he had been driven by desire. He could not get her out of his mind, could not stop wanting her.
But it would be the act of a cad to take her, he knew. Losing her virginity without marriage was the ruin of a woman. He could not be the reason for her reputation being dragged through the mud. He knew Alexandra well enough to know that she would scoff at the idea that he must protect her; she would say that she made her own decisions. But he could not live with himself if he did not protect her in every way he could. She was too dear to him, too—
He paused, struck by a new thought. He wondered why it had not come to him before. Slowly a smile spread across his face. He sat on the bed beside her and gently circled one nipple with his forefinger, watching it harden temptingly. Then he bent to kiss her into wakefulness.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ALEXANDRA CAME SLOWLY, DELICIOUSLY awake, awash in a sea of pleasure. Her flesh tingled, and there was a melting heat between her legs. Sebastian was kissing her, his lips warm and gentle on hers. Even as she came to a dazed awareness, she was yielding to him, her lips opening beneath his. Was this a dream? It seemed so unreal. Yet at the same time, the pleasure, the warmth, the velvet touch of his lips, were vividly real. Finally, his lips left hers, and he sat up. Alexandra’s eyelashes fluttered open, and she gazed dazedly at him.