Page 86 of His Scandal
Chapter 22
Alex rose up above her and Emmeline leaned back, her elbows on the next bench.
“You were wearing much less clothing that day,” he said. “I imagined parting your thighs and settling between them.”
He slid one hand up her calf, then along her inner thigh. Her breath came in gasps at the exquisite sensations he left in the wake of his touch. She willingly spread her legs, wanting his touchthere, at the private center of her desperate yearning.
But just before he lowered his body onto hers, a frog leapt from the muddy riverbank and landed on Emmeline’s chest. With a shriek, she tried to sit up, rocking the boat. Alex lost his balance and tumbled over the side.
The frog, too, jumped overboard and swam leisurely toward shore. Alex came up on his handsand knees in two feet of muddy water, coughing and spitting. Aghast, she gaped at him until he lifted his gaze to hers. His face was spotted with mud, and his hair dripped with it.
She covered her mouth, but couldn’t quite smother a giggle. With a growl he rose up menacingly and she cried out, but he only dove into the clear water on the other side of the boat. Laughter overwhelmed her as she sagged back against the bench. He emerged a moment later, wet but clean, stood up in the shallow water, and stepped into the boat. She clutched the sides until he sat opposite her and the rocking ceased.
They eyed one another.
Alex sighed. “I don’t suppose we can begin again.”
Though she still trembled, she had her reckless emotions back under control. “I think we should leave such fanciful thoughts to your imagination, where they belong.”
“They need to be acted out by the light of day,” he grumbled, gripping the oars, “or by moonlight in your bedchamber.”
“But then something much more dangerous than a frog might interrupt us.”
“And what dreaded creature should I fear? A house cat?”
“My father,” she murmured, her amusement dying. What would Alex’s reaction be if they were discovered in a compromising position?
As they both ducked beneath the willow branches, she felt a need to lighten the mood.
“How did you know there would be a perfect tree nearby today?”
He pushed the wet hair back off his face. “Because I’ve been searching for it, hoping for the right opportunity. One day I’ll have to tell you about my fantasy of the two of us naked in a garden.”
“Really?” she murmured, shocked yet secretly thrilled.
Alex appeared again the next day, during a wet, foggy afternoon. When the steward came to her chamber to announce him, Emmeline sternly quelled her pleasure and anticipation.
She had to resist his charm and remember her future. She could not let him jeopardize it.
But oh, she’d never imagined how wonderful it would feel to know he truly came to see her, not her sister. He was the unknown—yet he was Alex.
She hurried to meet him, almost tripping down the stairs in her haste. He was there in the hall, his dark hair wet and unruly, his smile so wicked it made her weak with memories.
“Lady Emmeline, I’ve taken the liberty of having your horse saddled. Do come for a ride with me.”
She remained on the last marble step, not daring to come closer for fear she’d show how eager she was.
“Alex, the weather is not cooperating, and it is close to supper. Can we not speak here?”
He looked about them as if dozens of people lingered to eavesdrop. “No. Come outside with me, my lady. The day shall yet turn lovely. And I promise you a meal worthy of kings.”
She told herself not to, even as the steward brought her cloak. She fastened it about her neck, her speculative gaze on Alex. What did he want?
Outside, the groom helped her mount. When she wheeled her horse about, Alex was already in his saddle, and he nodded toward the gate and London beyond.
What did he want with her, and why was she making it so easy for him?
They approached the double gates riding side by side, while the fog wet her hair despite her hood. Everything about them was hidden, as if only she and Alex existed in the world. She relaxed and began to enjoy the odd intimacy.
