Page 58 of My Secret Duke
Ivo was still holding Arrow’s reins. Olivia wondered if she should ask for them back, but she preferred not to. She wasn’t sure she would ever want to ride a beast like this again—Mable was a different matter though. She had grown quite fond of Mable.
She turned to look back down Rotten Row, but therewas no sign of Roberta. There was no sign of anyone else either, although she was aware that this might change at any moment. Only yesterday, she and Roberta had been here practicing, although if she had known how little skill it took to race Arrow, then she may not have bothered.
Roberta had been right when she’d said that all Olivia needed to do was to hang on tight.
Ivo swung himself down from his horse, running his hands through his windblown hair with another laugh, and led the horses from the track and into the park proper. The mist was finally beginning to disperse, and the tired animals dropped their heads and began to graze on the succulent grass. Ivo reached up to clasp Olivia about the waist and help her down. She slid off Arrow, thankful for the support because, as she had feared, her legs felt so boneless they threatened to crumple. With a gasp, she fell against him. He steadied her, and she was suddenly very conscious that her hair had come out of her cap and was all over the place, while the tight breeches and man’s shirt clung to her very feminine figure.
Ivo was holding her closer than she thought strictly necessary, but she didn’t complain. It was good to be in his arms again. And then he pulled her even closer, pressing his face to her hair so that his voice was muffled. “You rode like the wind. I’ll never forget it.”
“So Ididwin?” She tilted her head back to peer up at him.
His cheeks were flushed, his green eyes sparkling, and she couldn’t mistake his expression. She had seen that look before. Her heart, which had begun to slow down, speeded up again.
“I think we both won,” he murmured. Then his lips brushed hers, softly, teasingly. That wasn’t enoughthough, and she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a more substantial kiss. Every inch of them seemed to be pressed together, and when he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, she gasped.
He gave them an inch of space. “God, you’re amazing,” he said, just as they heard the pounding of hooves coming toward them from the track.
Olivia stepped back, and Ivo moved in front of her to shield her. Whoever was approaching cursed loudly as he pulled his horse to a halt. Peeping over Ivo’s shoulder, Olivia could see it was a gentleman in a green riding coat. A stranger, to her at least.
But not, it seemed, to Ivo. “Northam! You’re out early.”
“Seemed a shame to waste the morning lying in bed,” Ivo said easily, as if there was nothing unusual happening.
The man tried to see past him, and then pointed with his riding crop. “Who do you have with you? Your groom, is it?”
Olivia had used the distraction of the conversation to tuck her hair into the back of her coat, and now she dragged the garment about her, digging her hands into the pockets and staring at the ground. “Mornin’, sir,” she mumbled, trying to sound like one of the Ashton grooms.
“He’s from the stables over there,” Ivo said, pointing. “Looking for a lost horse. You haven’t seen the beast, have you?”
The gentleman snorted a laugh. “Saw an ancient mare shuffling along. But no, nothing else.”
“Ne’er mind, guv,” Olivia lowered her voice in what she hoped was a manly growl. “He’ll find ’is way ’ome.”
Ivo shrugged. The rider said something about getting home himself, and then he was gone. They waiteda moment until he was entirely out of sight, and then Ivo turned to her and pulled her into his arms once more.
He was shaking with laughter, and so was she as they clung together. And then they were kissing again, passionately, desire sending shivers throughout her body. She could feel his hard muscles locked against her softer curves, and when he slid his arms beneath the coat and shirt, his palms felt warm against her cooling flesh.
Olivia tangled her hands in his hair, tugging him even closer, her lips clinging to his. This was what she wanted. What sheneeded. Him and her, together.
She could pretend it was the excitement of the race, but in truth, it was Ivo. It had always been Ivo. The more she had tried to distance herself from him the more out of sorts she had felt. How could she even think of marrying another man, of giving herself to him intimately, when he was not Ivo?
He kissed her again, deeply now, his tongue sweeping in to claim her mouth until her head was spinning. He groaned softly against her, then nuzzled into the flesh at her throat. It felt as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and she certainly couldn’t get enough of him. When his hand closed around the soft warmth of her breast, her nipple peaked, painfully hard. She whimpered, and his thumb rubbed back and forth over the aching nub.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. “I want to see you naked. I want to kiss every inch of you. I want you…”
He did want her—she could feel the hard ridge of him against her belly. She ached to have him between her thighs, soothing that fierce heat. Desire overcame whatever common sense she had left. In a moment, her back would be against a tree, and she would have her thighs wrapped around him. And she needed that. So much.
The sound of a throat being cleared came from close by.
Olivia jumped back with a cry. Too late, she remembered they were in a public place. The gentleman from earlier might have returned. What would he think of the flushed cheeks and swollen lips of someone who was obviously not a groom? Ivo looked equally flushed and distracted, as they turned wildly to see who had come upon them.
It was Roberta. She was seated on Mable, watching them with a grin. “Sorry to interrupt, but there is a riding party on their way here.”
Olivia tried to find some composure, but her body was still fizzing from Ivo’s kisses and his touch. Her breast was aching for his hand, but she tightened her coat about herself and ignored it. “We need to get home,” she said in a subdued voice. “I don’t want to be missed.”
Roberta slid off Mable, her eyes alight with curiosity as she led the old mare over to them. “Who won?”
Ivo smiled. “It was a draw.”
