Page 43 of The Viscount's Promise
“Why?” A second later she blushed furiously, overcome by her own boldness in questioning him on something that no doubt had very personal roots.
He blinked. “I’m sorry?”
She considered waving it off and changing the subject, then shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Why have you never found silence comfortable?”
At first she thought he would either ignore her question and change the subject or kick his mount on to escape her. A wave of pain seemed to roll through his dark eyes.
“There are things,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp, “that I would rather not think about too clearly. And silence, more often than not, gives one room to think far too much.”
She nodded, her heart twisting for him. “I’m sorry I pried,” she said quietly. “I know something of pain and so can understand a bit of where you might be coming from.” She paused, not at all sure she could be as daring as she wished. In the next instant she threw caution to the wind. Nudging her mare closer to him, she leaned toward him and laid her gloved hand over his. “But know you have my ear to bend, should you wish it.”
He looked down at her hand for a long moment. As she was about to draw it back, convinced she had crossed some invisible line, he turned his hand under hers and gripped her fingers tight. Raising it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. She sucked in her breath as the firmness of his mouth lingered a touch too long. Heat pooled low in her belly.
“Malcolm,” she whispered.
His eyes raised to her, and even in her innocent state she could see the same hunger in his eyes that had been present when he had kissed her senseless in the library. Her eyes focused on his lips and she swayed in her saddle.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, a small brown blur darted past. Before she could regain her senses enough to tighten her grip on the reins, her mare reared up, her panicked cry rending the quiet afternoon air. Emily’s world tilted. Her leg lost its grip on the pommel, and she saw with horror the ground rising to meet her.
At once she was caught up. Malcolm’s strong arms banded around her waist, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a sheet of music. He pulled her across his lap, securing her tight to his chest. Her hat tumbled to the ground and was promptly trampled beneath the hoof of her horse as it galloped away.
For a long moment they sat there, breathing heavily. Her hands gripped tight to his coat, her face pressing into his shoulder. She was achingly aware of the strength of his thighs beneath her and the mad beat of her heart within her ears.
“Are you well?”
His voice rasped in her ear. She closed her eyes against the waves of pleasure that coursed through her, pounding through her blood in the most maddening way, weakening limbs already shaky from the fear of her near fall.
“Yes.”
“What happened? Why did she spook?”
Emily fought for composure. But his voice, his warm breath fanning against the side of her face, the feel of his arms about her all had her senses scattering like the small stoneware marbles she had seen the children in the village use. With effort, she gathered her wits enough to answer with a semblance of coherency. “A rabbit. She saw a rabbit.”
“Should we go after her?”
Was that reluctance in his voice? His hands, did they tighten the smallest bit on her waist? No, it must be wishful thinking. She shook her head, feeling the tendrils of her hair rasp against his coat. “She will head for home. It is what she was trained to do. Violet is a sweet horse, but she is uncommonly skittish of rabbits.” She gave a shaky laugh, more from nerves than anything humorous in the situation, for it truly was absurd. “It is my own fault. I would not have fallen had I been paying attention.”
There was a pause. Then his voice, so soft, drifted to her. “Remind me to thank that rabbit.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She could not have heard him right. It must have been the longing of her heart that had her thinking he said such a thing. But then, suddenly, his lips moved, feathering across her temple. Emily closed her eyes, holding herself utterly still. The steel of his arms softened, his hands splaying against her back, dragging her even closer until not an ounce of space separated them. He rubbed his cheek against her hair, his lips brushing down the side of her face.
Across her ruined cheek.
She froze. His muscles tensed, no doubt at the change in her. He would pull back now, she thought with the ache of sadness souring her gut. In the next moment, however, he did the most incredible thing.
He pressed his mouth, warm and open, against her scar.
Tears burned Emily’s eyes. For, if the swelling of her battered heart was anything to go by, she knew, then and there, that she was in a fair way to falling in love with Malcolm. And not the silly infatuation that had sustained her for so many years, but a real and abiding love. She moved her gloved hands to cradle the strong line of his jaw and met his lips with her own. He responded instantly, his tongue plunging into the recesses of her hungry mouth. One hand splayed over the small of her back, the other moving up to cradle the back of her head, holding her still for his onslaught.
As before, she was overwhelmed with the force of her body’s reaction to him. This time, however, she knew what to expect, and welcomed it eagerly. She ran her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, marveling at the power in them, before sending her fingers diving into his inky hair, sending his hat tumbling to join hers on the sodden ground. Her tongue met his with a boldness she had been lacking before, giving no quarter, demanding more from him.
He gave her more, digging his fingers into her hip, pressing himself into her. She felt the hard ridge of his manhood through the layers of her riding habit, knew it for what it was. Wild with need, she squirmed in his grip. He growled low, the vibration of it spearing straight to the core of her, filling her with a molten fire that had her trembling.
His mount, which had been standing silent beneath them, nickered softly. In an instant Emily became aware how public a place this was, that anyone could come upon them.
Malcolm seemed to become aware of it as well. After one final soft kiss, he pulled back. His eyes were like obsidian fire as he gazed down at her. He smiled, and Emily’s heart turned over in her chest.
She was not a fair way of being in love with him. Shewasin love with him, completely and irrevocably.
