Page 55 of Princess Charming (Legendary Lovers 1)

But she faced the greater danger, Maura realized. After all, what did a rake like Ashton Wilde know about true love, despite his family legacy? She didn’t dare let herself succumb to him, for she knew he could break her heart.

Finally he cleared his throat. “Perhaps we are not fated to fall in love, but meanwhile … I will settle for passion. I want you, sweet Maura.” His hand reached up to stroke her cheek. “You want me, too, admit it.”

Of course she wanted him. His merest touch stirred something deep inside her. Yet her yearning for him was more than sheer physical desire.

Maura drew a deep breath, striving for willpower. Then his hand suddenly fell away, making her feel sharp disappointment in addition to relief.

“Perhaps kissing you is unwise,” Ash murmured, “since it will prove too much temptation. Therefore, I will just hold you.”

He drew her close while waging a struggle for willpower similar to Maura’s. When she gingerly laid her head on his shoulder, Ash deliberated how to deal with his growing feelings of tenderness for her.

He knew he had to tread carefully. If he wasn’t sincere about wooing and wedding Maura, he could cause her grave hurt, for she was far more vulnerable than she liked to pretend.

Alternately, he could be in peril himself if he came to love her and failed to win her love in return.

Frowning, he pressed a light kiss against Maura’s temple. How had this fair-haired hellion accomplished something that no other woman had ever done: Make him seriously contemplate matrimony, and even worse, matters of love?

Until now he’d always viewed the question of love with a healthy wariness. Although he bore a fierce love for his closest family members, he’d maintained a deliberate emotional distance from outsiders. Oh, indisputably he was as lusty and passionate as all his Wilde relations, possibly more so. But to this point all his love affairs had been shallow and superficial and had never once come close to touching his heart.

In truth, he’d sometimes wondered if he was even capable of feeling the kind of romantic love that usually afflicted his clan.

It was a profoundly alluring fantasy, though—fulfilling the primal desire to find his perfect mate. Finding the one special woman who was his equal. Who belonged with him and to him. Who completed him and made him half of a contented whole.

Yet for his own self-protection, he’d never subscribed to the principal Wilde doctrine that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. After the grief of losing his parents, he had never wanted to risk that terrible pain, not even for the priceless prize of experiencing a grand, lifelong passion.

He would be a sad fool, however, to let his perfect match slip through his fingers for fear that he might suffer an unrequited love.

The simple fact was, whether or not their betrothal ended in marriage and a passionate, timeless love, just now Ash very much wanted to be Maura’s hero and prince. And granting her wish to vindicate her father’s honor was his best chance to prove himself her prince.

The Beaufort coach and grooms arrived in good time, so that by early afternoon, Maura was standing in the inn yard saying farewell to her stallion.

She felt anxious for Emperor, even though she knew he would have the best of care from Ash’s trusted stablehands and with two armed Bow Street Runners to act as escorts to his new home in Kent.

“And at least you can be properly groomed again, my handsome fellow,” Maura murmured as the horse nosed her palm, searching for treats.

She fed Emperor the fat carrot she’d obtained from the inn’s kitchen and stroked his face and ears while she waited for Ash to finish speaking to his grooms. When he was done she added her own instructions for Emperor’s care.

Finally Ash gestured toward his waiting carriage. “We had best be on our way. It will be late when we arrive in London as it is.”

“I hope we are doing the right thing,” Maura said, her doubt and worry rising up again.

“We are,” Ash assured her.

When he reached up to brush her cheek with his knuckles, Emperor pushed between them and butted his shoulder. Maura softly scolded the horse for his poor manners and apologized to Ash. “He knows better. He is just being protective of me.”

“You may tell him that I will take good care of you,” Ash promised before handing her into his well-sprung carriage.

They traveled all day, and when night fell, he pulled Maura into his arms and cut off her protests. “This is another advantage of a betrothal—it allows us more freedom when we are together. Now, go to sleep.”

She slept soundly in his arms until he murmured in her ear, “Wake up, princess. We are here.”

Maura stirred awake, only to realize that she was draped all over him.

“What is the time?” she asked as she untangled herself and sat up.

“Just after ten o’clock.”

Self-consciously, she smoothed the straggling wisps of her hair, which she’d pulled back in a tight chignon, and straightened her cloak as she peered out into the dark night.

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