Page 84 of A Stolen Heart

“Good. We will lead the horse. Do not worry.”

With those cheerful words, he returned to his horse, and in another moment their horse started forward. Sebastian’s arms went around Alexandra, and he twined his hands in the horse’s mane for purchase.

“Well, my dear,” Sebastian murmured in her ear, “you do introduce me to some interesting people. A highwayman now.”

“It’s not my fault we ran into him,” Alexandra protested in a whisper. “I was afraid you were going to offend him by refusing to go to his house.”

“I didn’t see a way out of it, frankly. We are in his power. At least he blindfolded us so we could not see the way. That is the most encouraging thing that’s happened to us. It means he’s not necessarily going to kill us.”

“I think I trust him,” Alexandra decided. “He seems a nice fellow.”

“Mm. A nice fellow who liberated someone’s horse tonight.”

They lapsed into silence, like the men around them. It was an odd sensation, Alexandra thought, to be sitting in the quiet, unable to see, the only noises those of the horses and the night, the only sensation Sebastian’s arms around her. She felt strangely safe and peaceful, almost content, yet at the same time there was in her a burgeoning heat, an intense awareness of Sebastian’s body against hers that seemed to be intensified by the loss of sight, as though her tactile sense had grown even stronger. She leaned against his chest, and she knew that it wasn’t all weariness that made her do so. She liked the feel of his hard bone and muscle, the scent of him, the stirring of his breath against her hair, the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath her. She sat flush against him, sideways on the horse, with her bottom wedged into the V of his legs, an intensely intimate position. And Alexandra did not think, from the way the heat of his body rose and the surge of flesh against her hip, that Sebastian was indifferent to her presence there, either.

Heat blossomed between her legs, and soon she was damp and aching and thinking about the night they had spent together. She wanted to do those things again, she knew, except that this time she wanted to take the wild ride to completion. It would be utterly scandalous to admit, but since that night, she had yearned to feel Sebastian inside her, to experience not only her pleasure but the completion of his, as well.

Alexandra turned her face into his chest as if she could still the flush she knew must be rising in her face. When she did, she found that all she could think about was his skin, his chest, and she wanted to see it bare, to feel it against her skin, her mouth. Her heart began to skitter, and her mouth was suddenly dry. It was dark. No one would see; no one would know. She hesitated, then threw caution to the winds. Her fingers crept up the front of his shirt to the button beneath her face. Sebastian stiffened at the movement. Stealthily, Alexandra unfastened the button, then moved to the one above it. Sebastian’s arms were suddenly as hard as iron around her, and she could hear his breath rasp in his throat.

She slipped her fingers between the edges of his shirt, touching his bare skin. His skin jumped beneath her hand. She drew tiny circles with her fingernail, then pressed her lips against his chest. He went utterly rigid. She could feel the pounding of his heart. Her tongue stole out, tasting his salty skin, and Sebastian made a soft, strangled noise.

He bent his head, so that his mouth was right at her ear. “Stop it, you little minx.”

But with his next breath he was kissing her ear, slipping the lobe into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth. He pulled away, burying his face in her hair.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he murmured.

In response, Alexandra wiggled her bottom fractionally closer to him. Sebastian stifled a groan. Alexandra was seized with the desire to rip his shirt off and trail kisses all over his chest. She knew that she could not, of course; it would be sheer madness.

She must be, she thought, a lewd and licentious person. How could she be thinking of such things when they were perhaps prisoners of a highwayman, unsure what would happen to them next? Yet she could not seem to help it.

With a sigh, Alexandra clasped her hands together in her lap and turned her face to the side. She could not bring herself to straighten and remove at least some of her body from contact with Sebastian’s, but she resolved not to cause any further mischief. A few minutes later, when Sebastian’s hand let go of the horse’s mane and slipped over her hip caressingly, she almost forgot her good intentions. She wanted to feel his hand on her breasts, her buttocks, her stomach, sliding all over her bare skin. She wanted to turn to face him and wrap her legs around his back like a wanton. Just the thought of doing so sent moisture flooding between her legs and her blood racing through her veins.

She could not, of course; she was well aware of that. She and Sebastian could not do anything overt. While she and he were both drifting in a sensual darkness, the rest of their party was not, and she certainly did not want to put on a show for these men. So she forced herself to stay still, even though her desire made her tremble. She felt Sebastian’s hand tighten into a fist against her thigh, and he ceased his sensual movements.

Alexandra had no clear idea of how long their trip took. It seemed somehow both interminable and terribly short. She would like to have stayed in Sebastian’s arms forever, yet at the same time, every moment seemed an agony of denial.

At last the horses came to a halt. A few moments later, a man’s hands were on her waist, lifting her from the mount. Then he was leading her forward, his hand firm around her upper arm. She stumbled once, but his strong grip kept her from falling. Then they were inside a house, their shoes clacking on the wooden floor. The door closed behind them, and someone removed her blindfold.

Alexandra blinked in the low light of the room, her eyes accustomed to total darkness. She looked for Sebastian and found him behind her. Moore was removing his blindfold, as well. His eyes opened and met hers, and she saw reflected in them the knowledge of what had happened between them on their ride. A flush rose in her cheeks, and she wondered if he considered her a low, lustful person.

Moore untied his mask, revealing a handsome face framed by thick black hair. His eyes were black, his features large and strong, dominated by a wide, sensual mouth. He smiled at his visitors, and he looked suddenly like a mischievous boy.

“Now, we must eat, and then I will show you to your room. I am sure you must be tired.”

An old serving woman shuffled in and out of the room, carrying in plates and bowls of food. She said not a word, just laid on extra plates at Moore’s request. They sat down to a surprisingly good meal, accompanied by an even better wine.

It was, strangely, an enjoyable meal. Their companion was clever and well-spoken, and as they talked, Alexandra began to think that he had been telling the truth when he had told them that he wanted the company. He asked about London and wanted to know the details of their adventure. He was full of curiosity about why Alexandra had been attacked, but when she started to talk about it, she realized that she could not tell him the facts without revealing that she was not married to Sebastian. It didn’t seem a wise idea to admit that Sebastian had lied.

She stumbled to a halt, saying lamely, “I, uh, we’re not sure why they happened. It may have something to do with the Countess.”

“The Countess?”

“Of Exmoor. I am, perhaps, related to her.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Exmoor? You are related to the Earl of Exmoor?”

“No—well, I mean, I guess I would be. Some sort of cousin, I guess.” She looked at him closely. “Why? Do you know him?”