Page 10 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

“Certainly not!”

His grin grew. “I am going to come and take your hand, Lucy. Can I do that?”

She longed to run away. To leap up, dash down the rocks and never set foot in Cumbria ever again. However, what she longed to do and what she could physically do were two different things.

“We have not even been properly introduced,” she muttered.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

She narrowed her gaze at her rescuer. Oh she had read him entirely correctly. This man knew precisely how handsome he was, and no doubt used it to his advantage. A rake, through and through.

Well, he might get away with calling her Lucy for now but once her feet were on the ground, she would be telling him in no uncertain terms that he should not even acknowledge her presence until such a time they were properly introduced. And hopefully that would be never. The last thing she needed was to relive this humiliation again.

He inched over. With scarcely enough width for them both, his body came far too close to hers. She held her breath and closed her eyes when his hand met hers. Instinctively, she curled her fingers around his, aware of the brush of bare fingers against the fabric of her gloves. She opened her eyes and found herself staring directly up at him. His eyes were a hazel brown, one cheek bore a dimple while the other did not. Up close, devastatingly handsome did not even brush the surface.

“I’m going to take your other hand now.”

Lucinda had little idea what he had planned but apparently she had no ability to refuse him. He curled his fingers into hers and drew her slowly upright. Wind wrapped about her, making her shiver.

“Can you shuffle forward?”

Wide-eyed, she studied the vast expanse of hills and mountains about her. “I-I’m not certain.”

“Look at me, and only me,” he ordered.

She did so, feeling a strange calmness at his presence that warred with the heavy thump of her pulse in her ears and the tingle that prevailed throughout her arms at his touch.

“Now slide forward a little.” He shifted back on his knees as she inched forward on her rear. “That’s it,” he urged, keeping her fingers gripped in his. “Do not look down.”

Lucinda looked down.

“Lucy, look at me.”

She snapped her gaze back to his, away from the drop to one side of the rocks that was far steeper than she’d realized. “I think you should leave me.” She tried to take her hands from his. “I’ll stay here.” She offered a sunny smile. “I’ll be just fine.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Her rescuer held her fingers tight. “But if you wish to stay, I shall stay too.”

“Goodness, no!” She could not imagine how scandalous it would be should someone discover them together.

“Then you had better keep moving.”

“Fine,” she mumbled.

Shifting a little more, she found herself on the edge of the rock and able to swing her legs down. The man released one of her hands and stepped onto the next rock, then guided her down until they were almost at the bottom. He staggered back slightly and she reached for him, gripping his sleeve with her free hand and righting him.

He grinned. “Many thanks.”

Once he reached the ground, he offered out both hands and she eyed the large jump from the final rock to the ground. How on earth had she clambered up it in the first place?

“Trust me.”

Trust him? She did not even know his name, and he still insisted on calling her Lucy. Why should she trust him?

“Lucy.” He offered out his arms again. “Just jump.”

Closing her eyes, she took a breath and leaped.

Arms banded around her, holding her suspended in the air. She snapped open her eyes to find herself chest to chest with the man. His breath was warm upon her face and she picked up a hint of sandalwood emanating from him. Up close, she spied amber flecks in his eyes. Up close, devastating seemed too mild a word.

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