Page 188 of Snowbound Surrender
Maxim shook his head. “They are court horses, but I have befriended them over the last few weeks. I have been desperate for a good ride for a while, and I thought it would be a good chance to escape the court, if only for a little bit.”
Her eyes shone, illuminating her beauty even more. “You read my mind. Come, help me up.”
“You cannot ride in that gown,” he protested, moving forward.
“Nonsense,” she said decidedly. “Any woman who cannot ride in a day gown should not call herself a rider. Come on.”
Maxim grinned. Here was a woman who was more than a match for him, then. As he reached out to help her mount Lightning, their hands touched. It was more than a frisson this time, more than just coincidence. Anne’s body made his own come alive, and it looked like he was not alone – Anne’s cheeks were pink and her eyes wide.
Did she feel as he did? Was she also wondering how far they could take this wild dance? Could this engagement of convenience simply become something real?
Maxim coughed as Anne settled herself in the saddle. He must not get too ahead of himself. The last thing he wanted to do was spook her, like a wild horse.
Pulling himself onto Thunder, he clicked his steed with his ankles and Anne followed suit, moving their horses outside the inner courtyard and beyond the limits of St. James’ Court.
Already, knowing that she was moving further and further away from the stares of the gossips and the focus of polite society, it was clear that Anne was feeling better. The tension in her face was gone, and as a breeze tugged at her hair, she smiled and closed her eyes.
Maxim smiled. “This is for you.”
Reaching into a saddlebag, he pulled out a box, wrapped in brown paper with a gold ribbon.
Anne stared at it. “What is the occasion?”
“Occasion?” Maxim shook his head with a wry smile. “It is almost Christmas, and if I cannot get my betrothed a present five days before Christmas, then what is the point?”
Blushing prettily, Anne reached over and pulled Lightning to a stop as she opened it. Her eyes were fixed on the gift, but Maxim could not take his eyes from her face.
Her mouth opened as she pulled out an elegant riding cloak. “Oh, Maxim!”
“I thought you would like it,” he said, a little hoarsely. Pulling Thunder close and steadying him, he reached out and brought the cloak around her, fastening it with fumbling fingers.
“Thank you,” Anne breathed. The moment was taut with restraint, and she looked a little uncomfortable as she said, “but…I do not have a gift for you.”
Maxim chuckled. “We Russians celebrate Christmas completely differently to you English, anyway, so I would not worry. We celebrate much later, January the seventh.”
He pulled away, conscious that if he stayed much closer, he would be unable to resist the temptation of those pink lips.
“I did not know that,” Anne said breathlessly, clicking her horse into action.
“Yes, the New Year is far more important than Christmas,” he said, attempting to keep his attention on his words. “We fast for forty days before Christmas Eve, and the day is full of feasting, story-telling, even telling fortunes.”
“Fortune telling?”
He could hear the interest in her voice, and grinned. “Why, would you like to know your fortune, Annika?”
Her eyes dropped and her cheeks darkened. “Perhaps. Meredith’s, certainly. I would like to know she will be happy.B-But that is of no consequence – your Christmas celebrations sound vastly different to ours.”
Maxim followed her, trying to focus on their route rather than her beauty. “I have had to adapt in the few months I have been here, but nothing like how quickly you have adapted to Lightning. ‘Tis like you have known her all your life!”
Anne laughed, and it was a true laugh now, with no concerns or self-consciousness. “A country girl who doesn’t know her way around a new horse isn’t worth anything.”
“Ah, so you are not a city dweller then?” Maxim found himself asking. Suddenly, knowing all about Anne, everything about her, felt especially important.
“No, I am from a small town in Kent that no one in London has ever heard of,” she said with a smile. “We are not far from London, but I have to say I much prefer the countryside.”
“If I had not promised your father we would stay at St. James’ Court, you could have shown it to me.”
Anne glanced at him, as though attempting to decipher whether he was jesting with her or not, but she seemed convinced of his sincerity. “I would like to show you, one day. The marshes are beautiful, especially when the mists are rising in the morning. I often see them when I visit Mrs Patterson each morning. She has lost her sight, poor thing, and her daughter is in service over ten miles away. I help with her sewing.”
