Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
The sky darkens, the horizon swallowing the sun’s last glow, and I know dinner waits at the manor. I’ve seen the menu, a French spread, rich with butter and wine. She will love it, I know.
“We should head back,” I urge, but she lingers, her fingers trailing over a cluster of strawberry flowers, her reluctance a silent plea to stay in this bubble of time. I don’t push, just stand there, my hands in my pockets, watching the twilight soften her features until her profile becomes sharp against the dusk. Then she turns, her eyes meeting mine.
“We can come here again,” I say softly.
She nods, a small, resigned gesture.
We climb back onto the horse, her body settling snugly against mine, her warmth a steady flame. We ride back, slower, the world hushed, the sunset painting the sky in pinks and purples, like a watercolor left to bleed. Her hand rests on mine, wrapped around her waist, and her fingers stroke lightly, a touch so delicate it’s almost nothing, yet it sends an electric shiver through me. I try to restrain myself, to keep the compulsion locked down, because I promised myself I wouldn’t push, wouldn’t scare her, but it’s too much—her scent, her touch, the memory of her from last night.
My resolve frays, and I lean forward, my forehead pressing against the back of her head, her hair silky against my skin, and I inhale. Her lavender and sweetness are overwhelming, gorgeous, a pull I can’t fight. She shifts, her body tensing, then softening, and she turns, her face so close her breath grazes my lips. Her eyes are wide and searching, a question and an answer in their depths.
Our lips meet, tentative at first, then deep and sweet. A kiss that unfurls like a wave, her mouth soft and urgent, stealing my breath, my control. It’s everything—her taste, her warmth, the way she presses closer, her hands clutching my jacket. The world fading until it’s just us, just our mouths joined on a horse.
The manor’s lights gleam ahead, pulling us back. We dismount, breathless, the kiss lingering like a heartbeat, its heat still burning on my lips. Knox greets us at the door, his face expressionless, but his eyes are knowing. He must see the flush on Lauren’s cheeks, the way our eyes avoid each other.
“Dinner is ready, m’Lord,” he informs formally.
I nod, forcing my voice to steady despite the storm in my chest. “Thank you, Knox. I’ll come down after a quick shower.”
“Very good, m’Lord,” he replies before stepping back into the shadow.
“I could do with a shower too,” Lauren says. “I’ll see you soon?”
“You sure will,” I reply.
“Thank you for today,” she says, her voice shy. “It was really nice. All of it.”
In her eyes, a flicker of desire still remains, but before I can lose my head and capitalize on it, she turns, her steps quick on the marble as she heads to her room.
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
LAUREN
Islip into my room and lean against it. I’m buzzing, my skin tingling with excitement, from Hugh’s kiss, from the way the world seemed to shrink to just us, our lips locked, the sunset bleeding pinks and purples around us.
The ride was perfect—the horse’s thunder, the wind in my hair, Hugh’s arm around me, his laugh low and warm. But it’s the ride back that lingers, romantic in a way I didn’t expect, the way we didn’t need words, just the quiet rhythm of the mare, our bodies pressed close, his solidity behind me like a rock I could lean into, steady, unyielding. I catch myself, my breath hitching, because I’m thinking dangerous things, imagining leaning into him, trusting him, when I know better.
It’s been nothing short of magical.
How is it that every moment with Hugh is better than the last, each touch, each look, surpassing what came before?
I shake it off, pushing away from the door, my boots silent on the Persian rug, and walk towards the window. I look out to the beauty around me, but see only the memory of his forehead against my head, the way he inhaled my scent, soft and deliberate, floods back, and I’m there again, turning to him, my lips finding his in a kiss that was unlike anything—deep, sweet, a current that pulled me under until I was drowning in him.
I pause, my fingers brushing the velvet drapes, my chest tight with a question I don’t want to answer: Is this what seduction feels like? The thought is a spark, bright and treacherous, because I’m losing my head, letting him pull me in, but I have Sandy, her voice sharp and grounding, ready to yank me back to reality, to remind me this is temporary, a vacation, nothing more.
I glance at the clock. I’m running out of time. Dinner is soon, French and lavish. I undress and hurry to the bathroom, the marble cool under my feet. Stepping under the hot water, I watch the steam curl like a promise around me.