Page 91 of His Scandal
Chapter 23
Alex twisted his body in mid-air, landing beneath Emmeline on a mossy hill. The air was knocked out of him, but he held onto her; they fell, tumbling over and over until they came to a sudden halt against a field of small, sharp stones, then lay still, gasping for breath, Emmeline sprawled across his chest. In the sudden silence he heard the gurgling of water nearby, and a shrill chorus of insects.
While he lay there, trying to decide if he’d broken anything, she lifted her head. In the twilight he could see that her hair had come down, and hung in long, curling waves about them. This was how she would look in bed, riding him.
He groaned and tried to banish the vivid images his lust brought to mind.
“Oh Alex, are you hurt?” she whispered. 298
He felt her hands move almost frantically across his chest, pressing.
“If you allow me to sit up, I’ll be better able to tell you.”
She slid off him hastily, and he regretted not pretending a small injury. With a sigh he sat up, feeling only a twinge in his lower back. He moved his neck, bent his arms and legs, but everything seemed unbroken.
“I’m fine, Em. How do you feel?”
She sat back on her heels. “Except for the terror of finding myself flying, I have survived intact.” She hesitated. “I know you broke my fall.”
“Accidentally, I assure you.”
“Thank you, Alex.”
He waited for tears, her worries, even the possibility that she was terrified of the outdoors. Instead, her spirits seemed to be lifting as she looked about them with shining eyes.
“Where do you think we are? Do you think they heard us and are even now circling back? Should we—”
“Wait, wait,” he said, getting slowly to his knees. “One question at a time—after I’ve had a drink.”
He leaned over the shallow stream and dipped his cupped hands. He drank in the cool sweetness, amazed to find how thirsty he actually was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emmeline attempting to imitate him, but her hair and theruff at her throat kept getting in the way.
“Here, allow me to help,” he said, moving behind her. His spread knees pressed into her lower legs. Carefully he untied the strings and removed her ruff, and she gave a little sigh and rolled her head about. Then he pulled her hair back and held the heavy, silky mass in both hands while she bent over the stream. He closed his eyes, but could not stop his thoughts of pulling her skirts up and thrusting inside her from behind. By the time she had satisfied her thirst, he was feverish with wanting her.
She straightened up and her back bumped into his chest. She would move soon, he knew she would. He remained frozen, enjoying the possibilities, with his hands tangled in her hair. They were alone, where no one would interrupt them.
“You were going to answer my questions,” she said softly.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, pressing his face into her hair and breathing deeply. It was torture—yet he waded in gladly.
“I asked if they could be coming back.”
But she didn’t move. He let her hair cascade down as he settled his hands on her shoulders. He marshaled his thoughts, tried to concentrate on their predicament. But all he could manage was, “I don’t hear anything.”
“Perhaps we should hide?” she whispered.
She seemed to sway beneath his hands and herhead tipped to the side. The length of her hair slid back to reveal her delicate neck. The darkness lulled him into oblivion, and he wanted to press his mouth to the sweet curve of her skin.
But she had recently brought his conscience back to life, and it didn’t look to be abandoning him now.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, coming to sit beside her. “We’ll need to find a safe place to camp, and try to start a fire.”
She laughed suddenly and he glanced at her in surprise.
“Did you intend all along to steal me away?” she teased.
He saw the shine of her eyes, and his respect for her courage grew.
“Of course that was my plan. Remember ‘The Seduction of Emmeline’? How perfect that my nemeses did the deed for me.”
