Page 16 of Enemies with an Earl
The cheating imp. He ushered his horse after her, riding low, the bay’s longer legs eating up ground as he closed the distance between himself and his sister. The cool wind burned as it whipped his cheeks, carrying all his troubles away with it for a blissful moment. Felicity dipped her head, glancing back at Felix beneath her arm. He could just make out her grin. He loved seeing her like this. Wild and free.
Her spirited “Hiyaaa” carried back to him, and she and her horse surged forward, skirts whipping behind her. He and Felicity may have their arguments over her future with Lord Wessex, but this was what her future held. A life here, free to live unencumbered and unfettered away from society’s constraints. It might not be the love she dreamed of, but at least she’d have this.
His bay was no match for her speedy little chestnut, and he closed in on the copse a few lengths behind her. They both pulled up their horses, their mounts snorting from their hard run. He glanced at his sister, her cheeks rosy from the stinging wind, eyes alight with the exhilaration only a full-on gallop could bring. It was as close to flying as a person could experience.
He leaned over and gave his bay a hardy pat. “We did our best, mate.” He raised his voice. “Not much one can do when racing with acheater.”
Felicity let out a dramatic gasp. “You dare impugn my honor, good sir. Pistols at dawn!”
Felix snorted. “You with a pistol? I don’t bloody think so.”
He urged his horse onward, and they led their horses in a leisurely walk through the copse.
“I wager I’d be a crack shot,” she said, shooting him a saucy side-eye.
“Yes, I have no doubt. But the last thing I need to do is equip you with more ways to murder Lord Wessex.”
She waved her hand flippantly. “I wouldn’t kill him. Just use his ballocks as target practice.”
Felix winced. Yes, definitely no pistols for Felicity.
The faint sound of rushing water filtered through the trees, growing louder as they meandered deeper into the wood. “Ooooh.” Felicity craned forward in the saddle. “Let’s find where that’s coming from. I wonder if there’s a pond hidden in here.” She glanced back at Felix and winged a brow. “I foresee a stone-skipping contest in our future.”
They pressed their mounts into a trot in the direction of the rushing water and soon the wood parted, revealing a gently flowing river. Three streams flowed swiftly down a large moss-covered wall of stone, spilling into the waters below. The current slowed as it traveled across the river pool, winding its way toward where the river disappeared into the depths of the wood. Felix inhaled deeply. The damp, earthy aroma was calming—
“Who isthat?”
His head snapped in the direction Felicity was looking, and his mind went blank. Because standing there was the Duke’s valet, water streaming down his very muscular, very naked skin.
Felix’s mouth went dry. The droplets covering the man’s skin glimmered in the sunlight peeking through the break in the copse, gliding down a chest so powerfully built it made Felix look like a lean youth in comparison. Dark, curling hair lightly covered Thorne’s tanned chest, a tan that only came from being shirtless—often. That tanned skin continued to a bare torso, taut and solid, the strength obvious even though it wasn’t as defined as Felix’s own. His gaze dipped lower, and he swallowed hard. Because the dark curling hair resumed just below the man’s navel, a line leading straight down to his low-slung trousers. And Felix desperately, desperately wanted to follow that line to its end.
“That’s the Duke’s manservant,” he said hoarsely.
Felicity turned to him, large eyes unblinking. “No. A valet? That’s the largest man I’ve ever seen.”
She glanced back at the man, who was now dipping a cloth in the stream—only to lift it to his neck and squeeze. Fresh rivulets of water slid down the man’s physique.Fuck me. Urgh. Felix slammed his eyes shut tight. That inspired way too many tempting images. Like how parched he was…and a very appealing way to quench that thirst.
“Goodness, I didn’t know men could look like that,” Felicity whispered. “He looks like a Viking.”
“We should go.” Because his sister shouldn’t be seeing this. And Felixreallyshouldn’t be seeing this.
God, he was never going to be able to look at Thorne again. Not now that he knew what Thorne looked like underneath his plain valet garb. There had been a safety in not truly knowing, to letting his imagination undress the man. Felix had been quite happy in his blissful delusion that beneath that straining fabric lay lumps and bumps and pox scars.
Felicity turned a glare on Felix. “Why? I’m enjoying the view.” She leaned toward Felix, nearly falling off her mount, and waggled her eyebrows. “I bet you are, too. What a treat having thatfine specimen tending to you.”
No. It really was nota treat. Felix wanted tobethat man’s treat. A groan escaped him.
“I’d happily let him dress and undress me,” Felicity murmured wistfully.
“Felicity,” he hissed. “Dear God, what am I going to do with you?”
She grinned, not chastised in the least.
“We need to go. I can’t let you ogle a naked man.Wecan’t ogle a naked man. It’s improper for one thing. And it’s a blatant invasion of his privacy.”
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. He’s taken care of the issue.” She let out a beleaguered sigh. “He’s leaving.”
Felix glanced back at Thorne to see the man reaching up for his massive ebony mount’s mane. And then he and Felicity sucked in a breath in unison. Because the man hefted himself up, his muscles pulled tight, shifting and rippling as they strained to pull their owner onto his mount. Then he slid a powerful leg over the horse’s bare back, settling atop his mount. More forbidden visions flooded Felix’s mind. He drew in a deep breath and blew away all those thoughts. With a nearly discernible squeeze of Thorne’s stocking-less calves, he guided his horse into the wood, disappearing from view.
