Heloise giggled in delight. Raven doubled up with a curse, waving his hands to shoo the creature away while simultaneously trying to avoid the flapping wings, pecking beak, and scratching claws. After a blur of arms and feathers, the outraged fowl finally escaped through the open door and Raven flopped back onto the straw with a final curse. Stray feathers floated down around him and settled on his prone body like snow. Heloise’s stomach gave an odd little twist. He looked like a banished angel, just fallen from heaven, and not happy about itone bit.
He glared up at her. “Wretch.”
She widened her eyes and feigned innocence. “Me?”
He extended his arms toward her. “Jump down. I’ll catch you.”
She snorted. “You won’t. I’ll flatten you.”
His mouth quirked at the corners and his eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Oh, believe me, I can handle your weightanytime.”
Heloise felt her cheeks warm again. “I can do it myself.”
He shrugged and rolled to one side to give her room to land. Without giving herself time to worry about how high up she was, she jumped. The mound of hay cushioned her fall nicely but she couldn’t control her forward momentum. She sprawled right on top of Raven.
She tried to push herself off him while simultaneously trying to avoid putting her hands on some utterly inappropriate part of his anatomy, but the unstable straw made the task almost impossible. Raven, the beast, made absolutely no move to help. In fact, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her predicament. While she struggled and squirmed, getting more flustered by the minute, he extended his arms out to the side and rested his head back in the straw with an earthy chuckle.
Heloise lost her balance again. Her breasts squashed against his chest and her knee slid between his thighs. She let out a howl of frustration and deliberately dug an elbow into his ribs.
“Oomph!” he groaned, half sitting up. “That’s enough!”
He made to grab her but she dodged his hands, made a fist, and whacked him on the shoulder. It hurt her hand.
“Hey!” he laughed. “What’s that about?Youfell onme.”
She pummeled him again, aroused, infuriated, and embarrassed all at once. He captured her wrists and secured them above her head with one hand. “Enough,” he said again.
Before she could say anything else he switched their positions and rolled on top of her. Heloise froze. His long body covered hers, pushing her down into the soft give of hay. She held her breath at the full delicious weight of him along her body. Her brain turned to mush.
Slowly, so slowly she could have pulled away, he reached out and captured a tiny feather that had settled on her eyelash. He balanced it on the tip of his finger then blew it gently, watching as it seesawed down to her throat.
A bright spark of longing arced between them, urging her to close the scant distance. Her skin tingled in anticipation as she recalled the exact texture of those lips, the wicked taste of him. Her stomach muscles contracted as she prepared to curl toward him and press her mouth to his. Time stretched to infinity.
“No.”
Raven pressed his lips together, shook his head as if to clear it, and rolled off her. He brushed the straw from his breeches with a brisk movement, picked up his pistols, and stalked away.
Heloise dropped her head back into the straw with a groan. This wasnotdisappointment. Or frustration. It was relief. She didn’t want to kiss him. He made her reckless and stupid. He made her hot enough to burn.
Chapter 17
Bloody woman, Raven thought viciously, spurring his horse. She was a born tease, gnawing away at his self-control. At least he hadn’t kissed her again. He should never have bloody kissed her in the first place, because now, instead of just his overactive imagination, he was cursed with the memory of exactly what those lips felt like against his own and exactly how good she tasted. He wanted more. He wanted that soft, smart mouth on his own. If only to shut her up.
He sneaked a glance at her as she turned her face up to the sun, basking like those little lizards on the rocks or a flower unfurling in the heat. Her mobile mouth curled upward in a contented smile. He, of course, found it erotic. He found everything she did erotic. She could be eating a piece of burnt toast and he’d find it erotic.
Dressing her as a boy had been a mistake. Yes, it allowed her greater ease of movement and acted as a basic disguise. But those breeches outlined her pert little derriere all too clearly.
“I love this warmth,” she said. “It seeps right down into your bones.”
Like you,he thought. The damned woman managed to sneak between the cracks inside his soul. She made him want things he couldn’t have. “You’ll burn,” he warned gruffly. “Keep your face out of the sun.”
She ignored his scolding. “So whoisthis contact we’re going to meet?”
“A chap called George Scovell.”
Heloise yanked so hard on the reins that her horse stopped dead. “Major Scovell?TheMajor Scovell?”
Raven frowned at her rapturous reaction. She appeared delighted. Enthralled even. “Yes. You know him?”