Page 39 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

A hot flush spread across her cheeks at his compliment. She wore merely a plain wool dress and her cloak, with a gray linen bonnet with a silk flower on the brim. This morning, Mary had wound her plait into a bun pinned at the nape of her neck. “Thank you.”

“Not used to compliments?”

“Oh, dear, does it show? I’m not. But I do appreciate it.”

“The fresh air and ride have done you a world of good. You are flush with health and color. It’s entirely appealing. Enhances your natural beauty. And I’m not spouting false praise to win your favor; I mean what I say. Always.”

As if he had to win her favor. She innately understood his sincerity was genuine. His words warmed her more than the autumn sun high in the sky. “Allow me to compliment you. I’m in awe of how you have handled this entire situation, from my bizarre request to managing my father and the earl, and the plans for the actual marriage. The agreements and the living arrangements…all has gone smoothly. Your career as an organized schoolmaster does you credit.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and laid a quick kiss on it. “Why, thank you, my lady. Let us hope all remains smooth.”

“What are your plans for the future, regarding your career? What do you want from life?” she asked.

They stopped under the cluster of trees. The horses stayed by the edge of the brook, alternating between drinking the water and grazing on the grass growing nearby. “All I can think about is what I want right now.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

He caught her gaze and held it. Again his expression smoldered. “To lean you against the trunk of this oak tree and run my hands over your lovely curves. Across your waist to your glorious breasts, where I would cup and caress them until you gave a sensual moan in reply.” He stepped closer. The husky tone of his voice caused her to tremble with yearning. He should not be speaking to her this way. Not at all. But she could not tear her eyes away from him, nor muster the words to tell him to stop.

“I would continue on my journey, pull the pins from your hair. See it hang long about your shoulders. Run my fingers through the silken strands while I inhale your citrus scent. Nuzzle your delicate neck, pull you close into my embrace.”

Both of them were breathing hard. Aroused. Yes, she was aroused from his heated, sensual words. Dear heavens. How to respond?

Riordan took another step. They were inches apart. “Do you feel it? What is between us?” Sabrina could only nod. “Despite what I want, what I…desire,” he continued, “I will settle for a kiss.”

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Should we keep doing this? Kissing, I mean.”

“Yes. In the same way we should keep breathing.” He did not give her a chance to respond, just swept her up into a bracing kiss. He clasped the nape of her neck, sending her bonnet slightly askew. “Kiss me in return, Sabrina,” he rasped.

His gently spoken but urgent demand gave her courage. She threw her arms around his neck and followed his movements, brushing her lips across his until a husky moan escaped his throat. When it did, she thrust her tongue into his mouth as he had with her yesterday. Sinful. Completely wonderful.

“Oh, God,” he murmured. In response, he wrapped his tongue about hers, caressing it, sending the flames of desire to a full roil. Sabrina was caught in a maelstrom of sensations. She wanted and needed more. Riordan clasped her cheeks, gasping, then leaned his forehead against hers. “Listen to me. Any chance I am able, I will be kissing you. I can’t not kiss you. Do you understand?”

She nodded, gulping deeply, trying to regulate her breathing as she did.

“Do you want me to kiss you? If not, tell me. Here. Now. We will coexist as friendly acquaintances and nothing else.”

How would she survive the next three months? The Sabrina of the past would have coldly rebuffed his passionate plea, even acted pitiless in the face of his raw and honest emotions. But in the span of mere weeks, she’d changed. It was all due to Riordan. She longed for his kiss. Yearned. At this moment? It was all she wanted. “Yes. Kiss me. Always.”

He pulled her into his arms and she melted. “Brilliant. I don’t know what I would have done if you had said no.”

They stood together for several minutes. Sabrina did not even care that his arousal was pressed against her. She did not pull away in horror, but instead soaked in his warmth. The hardness of him. For the first time in years she felt…safe. Protected.

Grayson nickered loudly and they parted. Riordan chuckled. “I believe the horses are anxious to be on their way.”

“Could we walk along the brook first? The day is lovely, and the winter season will soon be upon us. I want to savor it.” And savor you. Yes, she shamelessly wished to be as close to him as possible. Take his arm, lean against his tall, muscular body. How astounding that she did not find any of this abhorrent. Perhaps the six years in which Pepperdon had left her alone before he died had allowed her to heal somewhat. But how much? Enough to allow more than kisses? Not possible. Pepperdon had ruined her from ever wanting a deep intimacy with any man.

Or had he?

* * * *

Once they arrived at the farm, they headed to the stable to leave the horses. Sabrina stumbled and Riordan rushed to her side.

“You’re tired. I will take you to the cottage on Grayson.”

“No, I will be able to walk.”

Riordan leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Whether or not you are able to walk, indulge me. I want you in my arms.”