Page 45 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

The words were foolish. What sort of a man needed a woman’s protection, let alone one like August? He’d faced the dangers of the world with no one at his side. He didn’t need anyone, let alone her.

“You’d make a fine warrior woman,” he said with a soft smile. “A shield-maiden perhaps.”

“A shield-maiden?”

“Women warriors from Scandinavian folklore. They fought alongside their men.”

Lilly smiled at the image, picturing herself wielding a sword at August’s side. “I should imagine our hosts would be able to tell us more.”

“I find it rather difficult to think of our hosts whilst you are straddling me.”

“I only hope they take even longer putting the horse away.”

He curved a hand around her neck, and she leaned into his warm touch. “I forget why we should not do this.”

“As do I.”

“There are many who would say I am taking advantage.”

She met his blue gaze, the color warmed by the candlelight. The gold strands in his hair shone and glimmered and she thought of Greek gods, yet no myths could compare with the tangible. The feeling of his body beneath hers was firm and warm and real. Was beyond some mythical temptation. She suspected if they were in the bedroom, they would be doing more than kissing and conversing.

“Do I look like the sort of woman who could be taken advantage of?”

He considered her, his gaze running so slowly up and down that it made her breath quicken when she noted the darkness increase in his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he concluded.

“I do not think anyone has considered me beautiful.” She was too lean, too angular. Heck, too masculine. A lifetime of riding horses and participating in every sport a woman could participate in had left her firm in places where most women were soft. “I never really wanted to be called beautiful anyway.”

“And now?”

It seemed silly to want such a compliment. It meant nothing. It did not speak on one’s soul. Yet when the words came from August’s mouth, it felt different. This was no flowery compliment that one might expect from a rake but a simple, honest statement.

“I rather like it,” she admitted. “At least when you say it.”

“Then I shall say it more.” He coaxed her closer with his hands to the back of her neck, his breath whispering over her mouth. “You are beautiful,” he said in low tones then kissed her. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured again as he briefly broke the kiss. “You. Are. Beautiful.” He took her mouth in a deep kiss the next time as the words rang through her until she was breathless.

Resting her forehead upon his, she gulped down breaths, aware of the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders beneath her hands. “We cannot keep doing this can we?”

“Probably not,” he agreed then flattened his mouth to hers and drowned her in a world of pleasure and sensation.

∞∞∞

Since meeting Lilly, he couldn’t recall a night’s sleep like the one he’d just enjoyed. When August rolled over onto his back, he noted the rain spitting against the glass and hammering the roof. Wind buffeted the window, whistling through the gaps. He rather prided himself on sleeping through anything. Long journeys aboard creaking ships combined with his father’s sadistic demands for waking at all hours had taught him to sleep anywhere. But he’d never slept like this before. Damn fool that he was, he’d even woken with a smile upon his face.

He shouldn’t be smiling, of course. There were too many secrets between them. At least from his side anyway. How did one explain that one never truly bedded a woman for fear of the future? What possible explanation could he give that might sound half-sane given his reputation? And how the devil would he tell her he’d been instrumental in ensuring that reputation stuck so no woman attempted to get near him; be it for his looks, his body, or his title?

She might understand, of course. Lilly was unlike anyone he’d ever met. When she spoke of her desire for adventure, he wanted nothing more than to give it to her. However, even if he told her of the lie he’d been living, of how he wasn’t even his parent’s true son, it wouldn’t make any difference. And the lie could wind up with him at best being imprisoned for fraud. At worst, he could face the gallows. There was many a day when he wished the man he called his father had thrown him out like the bastard he was. Better to be a street urchin than the son of a man who loathed him and a woman who resented him.

Sobered by the thought, August sat up and eyed the indentation in the pillow. He touched it to find it cold. She was probably enjoying a morning meal with their hosts but despite the talking to he’d given himself, not waking up next to her left him feeling hollow. Both of them had fallen asleep swiftly after a long day, but Lilly had slept earlier in the evening so he supposed it was to be expected.

As he shoved back the blankets, the door swung open, crashing so hard against the nearby chest of drawers August feared they’d owe Klara and Astrid new furnishings. His gaze fell to Lilly’s hemline.

“Muddy again? What on earth—”

“The river broke its banks overnight,” she said breathlessly.

“The river?” He cursed under his breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed then snatched his shirt from the back of a chair. When he turned back to Lilly, her gaze darted over his bare chest, and she shook her head slightly.

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