With that parting comment, Nicholas turned, leaving Ashleigh staring after him in exasperation. Don’t do anything foolish or reckless. Of all the nerve! He had spoken to her as if she were little more than an ill-disciplined child. Moreover, he couldn’t honestly think that she might have appeared for the hunt dressed in breeches? Could he? No, surely he’d just been trying to vex her. With a frustrated sigh, she could only watch as he walked away.
As she stepped out into the front courtyard, Ashleigh saw that many members of the hunting party were already mounted. Glancing about she quickly spotted one of the grooms leading Raider over to where she stood. As she prepared to mount, she noticed several surprised faces staring in her direction. She knew it was rather uncommon for a woman to ride a stallion, but Ashleigh wasn't about to mount one of the more docile geldings or mares, simply for the sake of appearance. She could see that the majority of the women participating in the hunt were seated atop dull, gentle looking creatures, undoubtedly named Princess, Lady Fair or something equally boring. It was really quite sad.
Let them look, she thought defiantly. She knew she could ride better than most of the men present and she intended to prove it, even if she was forced to use the wretched sidesaddle she despised. As the groom cupped his hands to help her mount, Ashleigh caught sight of the duke preparing to mount his own hunter, a gorgeous animal, obviously a thoroughbred. As she hooked her leg over the pommel, she murmured a polite “Thank you,” to the groom’s pleasant “Good hunting, My Lady,” as she adjusted the folds of her heavy riding skirt.
As soon as she was comfortably seated, she turned her attention back toward the duke, who was now speaking with the huntmaster a few yards away. A shiver of excitement coursed through her body as she watched him. Although his behavior frustrated her beyond measure, she couldn't deny that she was intensely attracted to him nonetheless. Realizing that she was staring, she forced her gaze away from him to view the other members of the hunting party. As she scanned the faces, it was clear to see that she was not the only woman conscious of the duke. At least a dozen other women were staring at him as well, most with undisguised longing and blatant admiration. She couldn't help but notice that a few of them were regarding him with the subtle air of intimate possessiveness as well. Ashleigh felt the undeniable stirrings of jealousy, wondering how many of those women had known the pleasure of his touch. If rumor were true, it was probably more than a few.
As her debut had loomed closer and closer, Ashleigh had occasionally speculated about her female peers. Glancing about, she covertly studied the ladies in the hunting party, and was surprised to see several who appeared to be close to her own age. A few were quite lovely she noted, and all of them seemed to possess an abundance of poise and grace. She highly doubted that any of the young ladies present had ever sat a horse garbed in anything other than the most fashionable riding habit, and frowned slightly at the notion. In comparison to her counterparts, the duke almost certainly viewed her as childish and unsophisticated, little more than a simple country bumpkin gadding about in her masculine attire. Odd that it hadn’t bothered her in the least until now, she noted. Uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts were taking, she shifted agitatedly in the saddle. As if sensing her mood, Raider began to shift restlessly beneath her, forcing her to concentrate on calming him. Like her, he wasn't used to such a large crowd.
Once Nicholas had mounted his chestnut-colored hunter, his eyes involuntarily strayed toward where Ashleigh sat proudly atop her mighty stallion. She looked incredibly lovely in her stylish velvet riding habit of deep black and matching topper, too lovely in fact. Though, if he were to admit the truth, he would have to acknowledge that he much preferred the sight of her in her shirt and breeches. Glancing about the courtyard, he noticed several male faces staring raptly in her direction. Obviously, he wasn't the only one captivated by her remarkable beauty. With a slight frown of displeasure he turned his attention back to the huntmaster and gave the signal to start the hunt. Moments later the trumpet blast sounded and they were off, the hounds having already been released to pick up the scent of the fox.
Ashleigh kept to the back with the other ladies as they started to move forward, her eyes never straying far from the duke's proud form as he rode near the front of the group. However, as the field began to widen, she gradually started to move up. Several of the ladies cast surprised glances in her direction, but she was far too caught up in the exhilaration of her first hunt to pay them any mind. When she came abreast of two older gentlemen just as they were nearing a short stone wall, she pushed Raider to a faster pace so that the three horses cleared it in unison, their powerful lines appearing almost as one as they sailed over the low obstacle. The maneuver was accomplished with clever timing and a tremendous degree of skill. Not many riders would have attempted such a feat and even fewer would have executed it so perfectly. Their expressions revealed mild disapproval as she passed by them a few seconds later, but she was fairly certain she detected a hint of grudging admiration as well.
Minutes later, Ashleigh had all but forgotten the disapproving looks as her focus and concentration returned to the hunt. She passed another rider and yet another smiling in sheer delight, utterly caught up in the thrill of the chase. Urging Raider forward, she saw that a small ravine lay directly ahead, and tightening her muscles, she and Raider flew over it without breaking stride. When she passed by a handsome gentleman whom Madeline had introduced her to earlier, the Duke of Ravenfield if she remembered correctly, she was pleasantly surprised when he tipped his hat and gave her a roguish wink.
Ashleigh was steadily moving toward the front of the group when she saw two horses nearly collide as their careless riders recklessly urged them over a fallen tree. Eager to distance herself from the crowd, she pushed Raider into a full gallop. After another mile, she spotted the duke riding just ahead. A four-foot brick wall lay directly in his path and she couldn't help but admire his flawless form as he cleared it with ease. She too, took the wall with ease and soon she was nearly abreast of him.
Sensing another rider's presence, Nicholas turned to look over his shoulder and was stunned to see Ashleigh closing the distance behind him. “I thought I told you to behave,” he shouted as she came alongside of him, the two powerful steeds tearing up the ground with their mighty hooves as they raced side by side.
Ashleigh ignored him as she prepared to take the next hurdle. A moment later, the two horses sailed over the fallen logs in perfect unison.
“Dammit Ashleigh, I'm serious!” he bellowed, once they had cleared the obstacle, furious that she had deliberately defied him. He didn’t even realize that he had cursed, or that he had just called her by her first name.
With an audacious grin, Ashleigh leaned forward over Raider's neck and whispered into his ear, urging him on as she followed the distant sound of the barking dogs. The beautiful English countryside became little more than a fast-moving blur of greens, browns and the other muted shades of autumn.
Nicholas couldn't believe that Ashleigh was riding with such reckless abandon. Although he knew she was an accomplished equestrian, he feared for her safety nonetheless. She was riding sidesaddle for Christ’s sake! It was one thing to ride with such fervor when astride, but to do so sidesaddle was insane! Her stubbornness and over-confidence were a dangerous combination. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed hold of her horse’s reins, quickly slowing the horses and ultimately bringing both to a plunging, rearing halt, nearly unseating himself and Ashleigh in the process. “Are you trying to get yourself killed,” he roared once they had gotten the horses under control, his face a mask of fury.
“I was doing just fine, until now,” Ashleigh shouted back defiantly, her chest heaving in offense and outrage at his rash, highhanded maneuver. “If anyone is going to get me killed, it is you! What on earth were you thinking?”
Nicholas couldn't believe the little spitfire had the nerve to shout back at him. Keeping a tight rein on his mounting anger, and an even t
ighter grip on her horse’s reins, he turned to the north and then urged his mount forward; leading them into a wooded area away from the direction the hunting party had taken. The barking of the dogs and the thunder of racing hoof-beats grew fainter with each passing second as they traveled deeper and deeper into the woods. When they came upon a small clearing at the edge of a narrow stream he stopped, and then immediately dismounted. Walking to a nearby tree, he tied both horses' reins to a low hanging branch.
Abruptly, and before Ashleigh had time to protest or even to react, the duke turned and hauled her from her horse. She temporarily forgot her anger though as he pulled her against his rigid torso, just before lowering her to the ground. He looked deeply into her eyes for one brief moment and then grabbed her wrist in an unbreakable grasp, pulling her in the direction of the slow-moving brook. She was so shocked by the suddenness of his actions that she could scarcely find her voice. “Just what do you think you are doing?” she gasped, twisting her body as she tried to break free from his viselike hold.
Unexpectedly he stopped dead, causing her to stumble into him. Before she knew what he intended, he turned, grabbed her and then pulled her across his lap as he sat down heavily upon a large tree stump. Suddenly and without warning, her face was mere inches from the grass-covered banks of the stream. Sucking in a deep, outraged breath, she was rewarded with the pungent odor of grass and dirt, and helplessly watched as a small black insect scurried by directly under her nose. Livid, she hurled every expletive she had ever heard at him as she struggled wildly to free herself from his unrelenting grasp.
Nicholas ignored her cries of outrage as well as her futile efforts to escape as he sought to control his rioting emotions. God what a temper she had, and a surprisingly explicit vocabulary too he noted with a derisive grin, his pulse pounding. Despite his anger, he had to concede that Ashleigh St. John was like no other woman he had ever known, and dammed if she wasn’t affecting him more than he cared to acknowledge. As she continued her useless struggles, her pelvis brushed enticingly against his groin and a surge of raw desire rushed through his body. Although she wasn't wearing skintight breeches, he could clearly make out the shape of her rounded bottom through the material of her riding skirt and it was a tantalizing sight.
Realizing that her wild thrashing was having absolutely no effect on the duke’s tight hold, Ashleigh ceased her useless struggles to gain her freedom. It was then that she became aware of her breasts, pressed tightly against the firm muscles of his thigh and the rock hard bulge that now strained against her pelvis. There was no mistaking his sudden arousal and it gave her pause. He had intended on giving her a sound thrashing, she was sure of it, but was he still, or had his intention shifted? “What are you going to do now?” she asked, somewhat breathless from her struggles.
Nicholas, acutely aware of her lush charms, despised himself for the direction his thoughts were taking. Mentally cursing his body’s traitorous yearnings, he took several deep breaths to bring his rampant desire under control. “Young lady,” he began with grim determination, “I am about to do what your grandfather clearly should have done years ago.”
Ashleigh knew then for a certainty what was coming and began to struggle again in true earnest. It was beyond horrifying to realize that the Duke of Sethe was about to give her a spanking as if she were a naughty child. She twisted around so that she could see his face and the uncompromising set of his features convinced her that he was quite serious. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, unable to believe what was about to happen. His expression hardened and Ashleigh began to panic. “My grandfather will kill you for this,” she panted, her mind racing to find some means of stopping him.
“I doubt that,” he replied confidently. “In fact, I believe your grandfather might just thank me.” With that said he shifted Ashleigh to a better position upon his lap and prepared to deliver the first stinging blow to her backside.
As he raised his arm, Ashleigh briefly wondered how much protection her velvet riding habit would provide against his open palm. She had her answer a split-second later when his hand landed with surprising force against her derriere. Not much. Damn him! She gritted her teeth in mute fury. He could beat her black and blue before she would give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg for mercy. Whatever attraction she might have felt for him vanished in an instant. In fact, she didn’t think she had ever felt such absolute hatred for another human being as she now did for Nicholas Leighton. But it was anger, not pain that suddenly had her battling back her tears.
Though she no longer struggled to free herself, Nicholas could feel the sudden and unmistakable quivering of Ashleigh’s body as if she were fighting to keep from crying. He hesitated as his temper began to cool, and to his great surprise regret at his impulsive action abruptly overwhelmed him. Realizing that his hand still rested mere inches above her bottom, he quickly pulled it away. Christ, what the bloody hell had he just done? Though she might behave as one, she most definitely was not a willful child. She was a young lady, and what he’d just done was utterly inexcusable. Though he’d acted out of fear for her safety, his own impetuous behavior was unpardonable and he knew it. He hesitated for a moment and then reached for her shoulders, intending to pull her up, an apology hovering on his lips. Unfortunately however, Ashleigh came up swinging. Any words he might have said were lost as her small but powerful fist connected with his jaw.
“You miserable rotten bastard,” she hissed furiously.
Nicholas was so caught off guard that he toppled off the tree stump, taking Ashleigh with him. They landed in a heap with Ashleigh lying pinned beneath his solid frame, her hat falling from her head and several of her curls tumbling free of their pins. For a moment they lay unmoving, both of them momentarily stunned by the force of their landing. The pain in his jaw was temporarily forgotten as he looked into Ashleigh's beautiful, enraged face. Their gazes met and held, vivid green clashing with deep blue. Glaring at him through eyes brimming with moisture she whispered, “I hate you!”
From the moment they had first encountered one another upon the grassy meadow, Nicholas had known that she was attracted to him. Now, knowing who she was, he knew that he should feel relieved that her feelings had now turned to hatred, but surprisingly he didn't. He felt the enticing curves of her body as she lay beneath him and suddenly wanted the hatred in her eyes to be replaced with the spark of desire he had witnessed before. The impulse was insane. They stared at each other in silence. His eyes followed the track of a single tear as it slid slowly down her cheek, and he hated that he had caused it. Slowly, and with surprising gentleness, he reached out and brushed the crystal droplet from her petal-soft cheek, completely oblivious to the warning bells ringing in his ears.
In stunned silence, Ashleigh watched the changing expressions cross Nicholas’ features. She saw regret, tenderness and the undeniable flame of desire. The feel of his thumb moving gently across her cheek made her catch her breath in wonder. He slowly bent his head, and despite what had just happened, she knew that he was going to kiss her. Instead of pulling away, her traitorous heart eagerly awaited the touch of his lips against her own. The fact that she had professed her hatred of him just moments before vanished from her thoughts in an instant. She had dreamt about this moment, shamelessly imagining what it would feel like to have his lips upon her own. When it came, the kiss was unbelievably soft and tender. It was absolute heaven.
Nicholas brushed his mouth gently, almost hesitantly against Ashleigh’s lips, silently seeking her forgiveness. He wondered if she would resist him, a part of him almost hoping that she would. She didn’t. In that moment he lost his last remaining bit of sanity. As he deepened the kiss, she began kissing him back, her youthful ardor quickly stoking the fire of his smoldering passion. His lips became more demanding, seeking a response, which she readily gave as his hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers delving into her tousled hair.
Ashleigh raised her arms and locked them around his neck, encouraging
him, wanting more. She was rewarded when his tongue suddenly coaxed her lips apart, and then moved deliberately into her mouth. He plundered the soft recesses within, his tongue warm and deliciously invading. She loved every second of the breathtaking new sensation. Filled with a sudden, desperate need, she boldly touched her tongue to his, thrilled by his muffled groan of pleasure. As their kiss deepened, a dozen tiny shivers went racing down her spine.
Hungrily, trembling in his arms, Ashleigh kissed him with every ounce of the new-found passion she possessed, reveling in the wondrous awakening of desire coursing through her body. She clutched at the folds of his riding-jacket, clinging to him, pressing her body more tightly against his. It was everything she had imagined and so much more. When his lips moved to trail a path of fire along the softness of her cheek, and then to the graceful curve of her neck, her body arched wantonly against him.
His lips, his hands, they seemed to have a will of their own as they explored Ashleigh’s unbelievably soft skin and sumptuous curves. He couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop. He wanted her with a near desperate intensity he could no longer deny, an intensity that defied reason. Though it would be an act of sheer madness, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to tear the clothes from her body and kiss every delectable inch of her lush form.
As she lay writhing beneath the duke's large, heated body, Ashleigh was scarcely aware of the outdoor setting. The grass beneath her felt like the softest silk and the fragrance of the late-blooming wildflowers only added to the magic of the moment, filling her senses with their intoxicating perfume. She ran her fingers through the softly curling hair at the back of his neck, “Nicholas,” she sighed in wanton pleasure, praying the moment would go on forever. She knew then, with utter certainty that she was falling madly, helplessly, hopelessly in love with Nicholas Leighton. His cool, calculated facade had fallen away at last, and in turn, he had effortlessly captured her young heart. She felt as if she could stay within his arms for eternity and never want to move.
Until You Page 6