Page 50 of Wild Lily
The freedom of it, that Julian had arranged it for her, raised her laughter and her appreciation of him. She liked him, much more than she’d anticipated, more than she’d predicted when they met in Paris. There, she’d been struck by his classic handsomeness, his form. There, she’d thought him imperial, so far above her socially that she’d been aghast at his attentiveness. Now that she knew him, she could acknowledge he was generous, kind and so attractive that she could not, would not ignore him.
At the turn, she stopped and hailed Julian with a grin of delight.
He playfully scowled at her.
“I’ll beat you if you keep doing that,” he shouted.
She dug in her spurs and Polly responded with speed.
But Julian gave a good race, digging in only inches behind her.
At the final mark, she rejoiced in the win, proud that she’d risked exposure, grateful to him for the opportunity.
“We won!” She whipped her hat from her shoulder where it had fallen and dangled by its pins.
“By a nose!” He was laughing as he permitted Horatio to prance around her and Polly.
“Polly deserves a bucket of oats. And I’d like a firm promise of tomorrow night.”
Julian laughed heartily. “You love the taste of risqué business, eh?”
“I won’t deny it.”
“I’ll risk it with you.”
Drops of rain hit her face.She pushed curls from her cheeks and dragged off her net caul. The wealth of her hair fell to her shoulders, hanging in long curls over her jacket.
His dark gaze shot to it and back to her eyes, where he lingered. His consideration heated her blood, making her shift in her saddle, noting the tension in her belly was new, welcome and unwise.
In the distance, the crackle of thunder rent the night air.
“We should return quickly. Come on,” he said and headed back toward the stables at a trot.
But the heavens opened in a steady downpour, the rain seeping into her jacket. Julian and she trotted straight into the open doors.
Julian was off his mount in a thrice and strode over to help her down. “You’re soaked straight through.”
“You, too.” She felt the wet wool of his jacket as she braced herself on his shoulders and slid to the earthen floor.
Colin appeared from the back of the barn, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he took the reins of Horatio and Polly.
“Thank you, Colin,” Julian said and then her turned to her.
“We must get you home before you catch a chill.” He glanced around the dim interior, then reached over to a line of tack hanging on the wall. He whipped off a horse blanket and stepped to her. “Here, let’s put this around you. I’ll go up to the house and get a coat for you. You can’t go back to Carbury’s in the pouring rain. Not wet as you are. I should have thought of this.”
“You cannot predict the weather.”
“Foolhardy of me, anyway. I should have taken better care of you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Now, you are. But if you take sick—”
“I’ve never been ill a day in my life.”
“Bloody well good for you.”
At his rough words, she threw him a smile.
