Page 83 of Never a Bride
He turned away toward the door and threw his shoulder against it repeatedly, until she began to shudder with each painful-sounding hit.
“Alex, stop. This won’t work—”
But the door suddenly flung wide, and Alex leaned out to catch it before it could bang against the side of the coach. Emmeline smothered a cry as he seemed to hang precariously out over the moving landscape.
Cold air rushed in and swirled about them. The sun had set, and the growing darkness made the retreating fog seem ever more ethereal. It hugged the hollows in the farm fields, and obscured where the road ended at the side.
Emmeline grabbed Alex’s doublet and hauled him back inside.
He sat back and held the door partially closed as he glanced at Emmeline. “Thank you. We’ll wait a few moments to make sure they didn’t hear us.”
“Wait for what? The next time they stop, we’ll burst out at them and—”
“Be shot or stabbed for our effort? I don’t think so. There are at least two men holding us prisoner, and you’re not up to the fight. So we’ll go now.”
“Now?” she echoed, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “But…we can’t even see where the ground is. We’ll break our necks.”
“I saw a grassy embankment. We’ll be all right.”
“But Alex—”
“Would you rather wait here and see what they have in mind for you?” he asked bluntly.
“But ’tis you they’re after,” she protested.
“And you’ll be the added treat.”
After only a brief hesitation, she leaned forward and opened the door herself. She stared transfixed at the fog-covered ground that moved past, the brisk air swirling, rushing about her. Before she could gather her courage, she felt his arms about her waist, then her feet leaving the floor, heard “What the hell,” and then they were flying out into the night.
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.
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.”
