This time he smiled properly, and the elephants thudded down into a heap, before jumping up to start prancing again. That smile was a deadly weapon.
"Perhaps not, but it means if a virtuous lady felt the urge to…stray, she could do so without fearing gossip."
All the way from Hampshire, she'd cursed the carriage's close confines. Now it seemed as narrow as a child's pencil box. She gulped air into her lungs and wondered why she didn't slap this presumptuous cad's face and tell him to drive on. Or push him out onto the dusty grass verge and leave him to walk off his lust whil
e she fled back to Mayfair and sanity. After all, she'd itched to take the reins ever since she'd first stepped into this stylish rig.
"You make too much of a moment's foolishness."
He surveyed her from under the curling brim of his stylish beaver hat. "Do I?"
Reluctantly she met that probing dark brown gaze, and saw that he already guessed most of her secrets. The most mortifying being that she wasn't virtuous at all, but starved for a man.
Not just any man. This one.
So instead of issuing a ringing denial, she responded in a quavering voice unworthy of a worldly woman past thirty. "I've…I've never done this before."
The tenderness that always proved so fatal to her resolve softened his eyes. "I know you haven't. I also know I've got a deuce of a cheek asking. You only met me two days ago, and it's clear you won't give yourself lightly."
No, she wouldn't. She'd shared her body with one man. Losing him had nearly destroyed her.
Anthony's offer belonged to a completely different world from her youthful adoration for Henry. But she had a sinking feeling that if she accepted this lunatic proposal, she wouldn't give herself lightly this time either. "You're making my arguments for me."
“Nor do I take this lightly. I wanted you the moment I saw you. That attraction has grown every moment since."
"Surely not." She strove to read his expression, but those rugged features didn't give much away. "You were furiously angry when we met."
"Angry, aye, but also attracted. It made for an uncomfortable mix, believe me. Now I find myself quite…desperate."
Still she examined that overtly masculine face. "You don't look desperate."
"I'm trying not to terrify you."
A wicked thrill rippled through her. The thought of testing this remarkable man's control was undeniably intriguing.
The horses snorted and stamped their feet, impatient at the delay. Sitting so close, she felt Anthony's vibrating tension. His face might be all stern angles, but his body hinted that he hung on her answer like a man dangling over a cliff.
She'd learned that with Anthony Townsend, you noted his actions, not his words.
What did they tell her? He loved his nephew, and had shown the two boys unexpected and poignant kindness. He was willing to admit his mistakes and take the consequences—in her experience, a rare and precious quality in the male animal. He possessed powerful appetites, but equally powerful control. Last night, he'd seen her resistance was precarious. But he'd let her retire unscathed. Almost.
Even now, he didn't touch her, to avoid influencing her decision.
So, a fair man. A man of principle. A man who could give her pleasure.
She'd always love Henry. She couldn't imagine sharing that closeness with anyone else. But that wasn't what Anthony offered.
He invited her to find fleeting surcease from loneliness, a sensual exploration, a brief warmth before she returned to the cold. That warmth lured most of all. To lie in a man's arms and feel her blood rise in passion, to accept physical comfort that asked for nothing more.
Ah, that was tempting.
She licked lips dry as the Sahara and quivered with uncertainty. And desire.
Heat flared in his eyes as they focused on her mouth. Yes, he wanted her. She couldn't doubt it. But did that mean she could trust him?
"What exactly is your proposition?" she asked huskily.
One of those large, expressive hands gestured to the road ahead. "In a couple of miles, we'll reach Croydon. I've taken a room at the Rainbow and Angel. We can spend the night. If not, I'll stay, and you can proceed alone to Mayfair in a closed carriage I've arranged for your use. You'll arrive home without anyone knowing you've been in my company since you left."