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She released a breathless laugh. “Soap? Surely lavender is too prosaic to get you excited.” She bumped her hips against his to confirm his excitement.

He smothered a groan. She obviously didn’t realize how excited he was or she wouldn’t tease. “Miss Smith, stop distracting me. We’ve reached our destination.”

“Let me up. I want to see where we are,” she said breathlessly.

“No great mystery. We’re in the mews behind my house.”

Her beguiling languor leached away. She stared up in horror. “I can’t come to your house, Nicholas. I thought you understood.”

He sat, drawing her upright even as he felt her resistance. “It’s the safest place.”

“Apart from the servants,” she said acidly. “Who presumably possess eyes and ears and tongues.”

He smoothed the pale hair that framed her flushed face. She looked thoroughly kissed and thoroughly annoyed. It made an enchanting mixture. A tide of emotion choked him. Something not altogether comfortable, something composed of protectiveness and admiration and a huge dollop of desire.

He welcomed overwhelming desire. After all, this attraction promised pleasure beyond his wildest dreams. But what he felt now went beyond mere attraction, set him teetering above a bottomless abyss.

“I’ve sent the servants away until tomorrow. Bob coachman knows I’ve brought a lady but he has no idea who you are. Anyway, he’s as closemouthed as an oyster.”

Praise heaven, the tension drained from her expression. “Thank you,” she said in a low voice.

He leaned past her to raise the blinds. The world was awash with silvery sheets of rain. He could barely see the garden gate a few feet away. “We’ll have to make a dash for it.”

“Perhaps we should stay here.”

He shot her a quick smile. “My plans require more space, beautiful girl.”

He caught a flash of curiosity before she lowered her eyes. “Goodness gracious,” she breathed.

Ranelaw retrieved his hat and placed it on his head. Antonia, looking enticingly rumpled, made an ineffectual attempt to order her clothing.

Gently he shifted her hands and hitched her bodice into decorum. The actions took longer than they should. Antonia wasn’t the only one shaking with desire. He fastened the elaborate silver toggle on her cloak. It was a noblewoman’s garment, not a companion’s workaday covering. He beat back his curiosity. Questions could wait. Physical need couldn’t.

Finally he pulled up the hood. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He read heat in her eyes. She wasn’t merely consenting to a run through the rain. With that assent, she offered him surrender. The knowledge set his heart galloping like a wild horse.

He opened the door, kicked down the step and plunged into the storm. The water was frigid on his neck and face, pelting down with stinging force.

He laughed with the sheer joy of having the woman he wanted with him at last. Turning, he extended his arms. “Jump!”

Antonia hovered in the carriage doorway and stared at the tall man holding out his hands. Rain slicked over his fashionable hat, probably ruined it forever, and down the capes of his black greatcoat. He stood in a puddle, drenching his once-gleaming half boots in muddy water.

“Antonia! I’ll catch you.”

He sounded so strong, so steadfast. He didn’t sound like the scoundrel who would shatter her heart. Although of course he would.

She had the strangest feeling that despite everything that had passed, this was the deciding moment. This was when she cast her fate to the winds.

Nicholas waited patiently, although he wasn’t at heart a patient man. His eyes were steady, although he wasn’t at heart a steady man either.

She smiled through the downpour. He smiled back with a devil-may-care insouciance that made her feel young and brave. She hadn’t felt young and brave for ten long years.

Whispering a silent prayer, she drew a breath that tasted like rain and flung herself into Nicholas’s arms.

Nicholas’s arms closed hard and sure around Antonia and he swung her up against him. He wrapped the front of his greatcoat around her to shield her from the weather. Desperately she struggled against lapsing into a romantic stupor at this strong, handsome man carrying her. It was impossible. Her life had been devoid of girlish dreams since girlish dreams had nearly destroyed her. It seemed girlish dreams weren’t so easily vanquished.


Tags: Anna Campbell Romance