Page 5 of Gone With the Rogue
Lady Kitson’s fingers slowly relaxed. She gently slid her palm down the buttons on Garrett’s waistcoat until she dropped her arm to her side. His skin pebbled deliciously as he felt every inch of her light caress. It sent a hard throb of pulsating heat directly to his lower body. The madness of what it did to him threatened to overwhelm his control. His hand tightened around the limb above his head. She was making it too easy for him to imagine the hunger of his lips crushing against hers, and the thrill of his hands skimming her bare skin in passion and pleasure, the need to—Garrett swallowed down the primal desires warring inside him, fighting to take control of his common sense.
There were usually two things Garrett wanted to do after his boots touched London soil. His first stop was to visit a mistress and his second was to ride in the park. Today, he’d reversed that order. At the time, he didn’t know why getting on a horse seemed more important. Now he knew. She was standing right beside him.
Seconds continued to pass. The voices faded away.Garrett gave Lady Kitson a nod and slid his knife back into the sheath sewn inside his boot.
“That was close,” she whispered, her breaths sounding as labored as his.
He hoped she didn’t know how close. It wasn’t only the appealing way she looked to him right now that enticed him. He was drawn to the fearless spirit that must have sent her into the tree in the first place, and the inner strength that kept her from panicking while she was there. Whether or not she’d ever admit it, that made her an adventurer, too. And she was obviously as impetuous as the day was long. How else could she have managed to get herself tangled in a tree?
“You were upset I discovered you up here.”
“Yes,” she whispered under her breath as she lightly rubbed the whiplashed skin on the back of her neck. “But in doing so, you saved me. Your skills with a knife are exceptional and appreciated. You knew exactly where to put the blade.”
Garrett shrugged casually. He’d already received gratitude enough from the trace of her hand and the ensuing thoughts it encouraged. He cautiously moved some leaves and took a sweeping glance around the other trees and slopes near them. There were still several people enjoying the late afternoon but none venturing nearby.
“Let’s get you down.” He held out his hand to her.
Without further ado, she took a firm hold of his hand and quickly stepped toward him, but in her haste, one of her boots slipped off the edge of the limb. Her weight yanked her hand off the branch above her head. Garrett instinctively tightened his grip on her hand and caught her around the waist with his other arm, while quickly falling back against the trunk to keep themfrom tumbling out of the tree. His breath stalled, his heart thumped, and his lower body took a heady jolt of desire as Lady Kitson fell against him.
Garrett’s heart was beating fast against his chest. They had come very close to hitting the ground, but she was safe, in his arms, her lips inches from his. Her breaths were as deep and rapid as his. Neither of them moved.
From beneath long, full lashes, her gaze searched his. Attraction and wanting were pulsating between them. He had no doubt she could feel the distinctive proof of his desire for her. The necessity to act on the tension and danger the moment had created was evident as they gave each other second and third looks. There was an exotic, sensuous atmosphere settling around them. The inviting scent of crushed leaves mixed with the smell of her freshly washed hair. A sheen of moisture glistened lightly across the bridge of her nose. His gaze swept down her face to linger on her lips.
Garrett felt as if all the sounds around them suddenly went silent. There were only the two of them in this space, this park, and this world. His hand pressed firmer against her back, compelling her forward. Her body was solid, but soft against him. Thin but muscled, and warm as the sunshine that flickered through the leaves. His lower stomach and body tightened with need. With his ungloved hand he gently cupped her soft cheek and cautiously let his forearm rest between her breasts. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she relaxed and leaned toward him, her lips moving seductively closer to his.
He could see her features softening. Her dark lashes lowered and her mouth formed a beautiful enticingbow. Garrett bent his head ready to claim her for his own, but just before his lips touched hers, a masculine shout and the harsh snap of leather rang through the air as a carriage rolled by.
Letting out a sighing breath, Lady Kitson moistened her lips. “We almost fell.” She pushed away as she reached up and grabbed an overhead limb to steady herself. Her gaze stayed steady on his. “Thank you for saving me once again.”
Garrett had had a few exciting dreams in his lifetime. A few wild moments, too, but it had never entered his mind that he could one day be in a tree on a sultry afternoon with a lady who would tempt him to forgo civility and kiss her until they were both dizzy. He’d wanted to ravish her. He still wanted to.
He was sure her contemplations had been going in the same direction as his, that she’d felt the same rush of intense desire, but she was being levelheaded. They were in no position for a kiss. But to feel her lips on his, somehow he would have managed.
Garrett strengthened his stance with his feet and legs. “Take hold of my wrist with both hands and don’t let go until you feel comfortable doing so.”
“Stop worrying, Mr. Stockton,” she said softly, grasping his forearm. “I know exactly what to do.”
Garrett wasn’t easily impressed anymore, but the confident lady standing beside him was making a sizable dent in his cynical perspective. Taking him to task was a refreshing change from women who usually wanted to please his every desire.
He bent his knees and lowered her as close to the ground as possible without endangering his position. As soon as she let go of him and her feet touched soil, he grabbed hold of the limb they’d been standing onand swung himself down—too close to the horse. The mare yanked her head a couple of times, nickered, and sidestepped restlessly.
“Easy, girl,” he said calmly, rubbing the animal’s neck with one hand and controlling the bridle with the other. “Nothing’s wrong. Settle down, now.”
“Is she all right?” Lady Kitson asked as she cautiously scanned the park from east to west and then looked around to the other side of the tree.
Garrett continued to pat the mare, but his attention was on Lady Kitson. “She’s fine,” he answered. “Just startled. How about you? Any twisted ankles or wrenched knees?”
Lady Kitson touched the damp tresses at the back of her neck and then brushed the skirt of her dress. “Nothing is hurt other than my pride.” She scoffed out a soft laugh. “In her haste, Miss Periwinkle left with my bonnet, so I am in the park without a headpiece or a companion. Other than those two forbidden things, I am in perfect order.”
Garrett liked the way her straight, slender shoulders moved a little when she talked. She probably wasn’t even aware that she did it, but he was noticing every little detail about her. She was a widow, a mother, yet still there was a wholesome innocence about her.
Though Garrett hadn’t been in London at the time, he knew Lady Kitson Fairbright’s story. The sinking of theSalty Dovehad widowed her and two friends, Lady Lyonwood and Mrs. Brina Feld. To their credit, they had overcome their loss and started a small charitable boarding school for daughters and sisters of the workers who’d lost their lives.
Garrett unrolled the horse’s reins from the branch. “I’ll walk with you to meet the governess. Youshouldn’t stay here. The ladies who stopped by might return before she does and question you. You would be at a greater risk of ridicule from being alone than being seen with me. I will walk with you.”
She glanced around the park again, obviously still worried someone was close enough to recognize her. “I’m afraid the duke would see both as equally damaging to my reputation.”
Garrett’s mouth twitched sardonically. Her answer was proof that wealth could not equal a title and social standing in Society. Most members of Society believed that Garrett had breached the threshold between gentleman and tradesman after his father had passed. Obviously the duke was one of them.
