The Husband Hunt (15 page)

“Perhaps you can carry on from here.”

Lisa glanced back to Lord Findlay and accepted the book he was holding out, then glanced blankly over the two pages. She hadn’t heard a word he’d said and wasn’t sure where he’d left off or where she should begin.

“Here,” Findlay murmured, pointing to the top of the right-hand page.

“Thank you,” she murmured and began to read. Forced to concentrate on the words, she could not get distracted by Robert, and Lisa found herself relaxing and getting involved in the story. She was so wrapped up in the story line that it wasn’t until Robert spoke that she realized the shadow cast over her wasn’t merely a cloud blocking the sun, but him standing, looming over her.

“It’s getting late.”

She blinked and glanced up at those words and then frowned and glanced around, surprised to see that the sun was low in the sky. “Oh,” she murmured. “Yes, of course.”

Nodding, he turned and strode back to his tree where his horse was grazing, and Lisa smiled apologetically at Charles. “I suppose we should return, my lord. But thank you for a lovely time. The picnic was delicious and really, this is a wonderful story.”

“Yes, it is,” he agreed wryly, getting to his feet and offering her a hand to help her up. “I was quite enjoying your narration of it. You have a delightful way of giving personality to the characters.”

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured, blushing faintly.

“Do not thank me. It is little more than the truth. I hope you will save our spot and continue on with the story when we next meet. I do not think I would enjoy it as much without you reading it.”

“Oh, that’s very kind,” she said, flattered. Lisa then glanced around, eyes widening with surprise when she saw that their picnic was already packed away and only the blanket was left to be folded and put away.

“I tidied up a bit while you were reading,” he said with amusement, bending to pick up the blanket and fold it. “You were so involved in the story you did not even notice.”

“Oh,” she murmured and then laughed, and repeated, “Well, it is a good story.”

“I cannot agree more, and it pleases me that we both appear to have the same taste in books,” he commented, then laid the blanket over his arm and moved closer to take her hands in his. “It would be nice to have a wife read to me at night by the fire.”

Lisa’s eyes widened slightly and then she ducked her head, confusion rifling through her. “Well, that sounds pleasant.”

“Doesn’t it?” he agreed. “Would you be that wi—”

“It’s going to start raining,” Robert interrupted briskly, suddenly appearing beside them and catching Lisa’s arm to drag her toward his horse. “You will ride back with me. It is quicker than a carriage trying to move through the traffic.”

Lisa cast an apologetic glance over her shoulder toward Lord Findlay, but didn’t protest. She was pretty sure the question Robert had interrupted was “Would you be that wife?” and she didn’t have a clue what to say to it. Lisa was actually relieved that Robert had interrupted and dragged her off. She needed time to think. To figure out what she wanted. She’d thought she had given up on Robert and was looking for a husband, and then she’d decided to try to make him love her, and then she’d fallen in with the plan to force him to marry her, only to decide she didn’t want him that way. Now she simply didn’t know what she wanted.

That wasn’t entirely true, of course, Lisa acknowledged to herself as Robert mounted and then helped her onto the horse behind him. She knew she wanted Robert. She just didn’t want him if he had to be forced into marriage and didn’t trust her. And that appeared to be the only way she would get him. So if she couldn’t have him, what would make her happiest? Living alone for the rest of her life, surviving on memories of her one night with Robert? Or marrying another and perhaps at least managing a warm, friendly marriage of reading by the fire at night, easy conversation and children to distract her?

“Put your arms around my waist,” Robert ordered and waited for her to do so before urging his mount to move.

They were silent as they rode out of the clearing, through the park and headed for the townhouse. Lisa simply sat behind him, her arms around his waist, her breath matching his as they rode. But the feel of him and his smell reminded her of the night before. The faint scent of his aftershave had stayed with her all night, filling her dreams with his kisses and caresses. She had been sorry to wake and wash it away in her bath. But she’d also been relieved. His scent had made it impossible not to think of the man, and thinking of him was a sort of torture.

It started to rain as they turned up the road where Richard and Christiana resided, so she was surprised when Robert didn’t stop at the front door to let her dismount and hurry inside. Instead, he continued on around to the back of the property and right inside the small stables there before stopping. They both hesitated, waiting for the stable master to come rushing up. When that didn’t happen, Robert frowned and muttered, “Harry must not be here.”

“It’s all right,” Lisa murmured, removing her arms from around his waist. “I can get down myself.”

“Just sit tight,” Robert said, reaching back to keep her from trying to get off. He then shifted the reins to one hand and swung a leg over the horse’s head and slid quickly off. He landed with a small grunt, but before she could ask if he was all right, raised his arms to help her down.

“What about your wound?” Lisa asked with a frown. Really, he had put undo stress on it last night. And he shouldn’t have been riding around today. But lifting her off the horse seemed to be pushing it just a bit far.

“
Now
you worry about my wound? You did not seem worried when you had me bouncing around on the back of a horse, chasing after you and Findlay,” he said dryly and then gestured impatiently with his hands for her to disembark.

Lisa scowled at him for the dry comment, and allowed him to help her down, but once on the ground muttered, “I did not force you to come out today.”

“Should I have left you to be dragged off and ravished then?” he muttered, turning to tend to his horse.

“That’s ironic. You guarding me from being ravished,” she snapped and then could have bitten off her own tongue. Damn, sometimes she wished she thought before she spoke. Noting how stiff and still Robert had gone, Lisa sighed unhappily and said, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I was not unwilling.”

Robert didn’t respond. He simply finished removing his horse’s saddle and tossed it aside before leading the animal into a stall.

Lisa followed, saying, “I really am sorry, Robert.”

His only response was to pick up a brush and begin to run it silently over the horse’s back, brushing him with a brisk efficiency that told her he was mad as hell.

Rolling her eyes, she tried to think of a way to ease the situation, but nothing was coming to mind. Finally, she sighed and turned away, intending to go into the house. She had stepped out of the stall and was starting toward the doors when he said coldly, “You are not marrying Findlay.”

Lisa paused and turned back with surprise. “He has not asked me.”

“He was asking when I interrupted,” he said tightly, setting the brush aside and coming out of the stall. “And you are not marrying him.”

“Robert, you have no say in who I marry,” she said gently.

“The hell I don’t. You could very well be carrying my child.”

Lisa bit her lip at the words, and then shook her head. “I doubt it. I’m sure one time wouldn’t—”

“It only takes one time, Lisa,” he said impatiently.

Lisa shifted on her feet unhappily. “Then if he asks again, or manages to ask without being interrupted, I shall have to explain the situation and if he still wants to marry me—”

“He will,” Robert interrupted harshly. “He wants you.”

“You don’t know that,” she protested.

“Lisa, when you are not looking, his eyes are all over your body. He wants you. Trust me, I recognize the look. It’s the same way I look at you.”

When her eyes widened incredulously, he cursed and closed the small distance between them. He bore down on her like a wave, his arms sliding around her, his lips claiming hers and his body pressing into and forcing her back as he continued forward.

“Robert,” she gasped when he broke their kiss to glance around, and then he changed direction, bearing her to the right and into an empty stall. “We can’t—”

Her words ended on a gasp as he kicked the stall door closed and lowered her to the straw strewn floor. His mouth then covered hers again, smothering any protest, and pretty much pushing even the thought of protesting from her mind. His kisses were like wine, making her drunk with desire and Lisa gave up any attempt to be a good girl and stop him and clutched at his head, her mouth becoming demanding under his.

Robert groaned at the sudden change in her response, and then immediately began tugging at the top of her gown, managing to free her breasts with surprising speed. The moment they were free, he tore his mouth from hers to claim them.

Lisa moaned, her hands moving over his shoulders and tugging fretfully at his coat as he laved and nipped at one breast and then the other. She then gasped in surprise when one of his legs slid between hers and pressed against her core. The surprise passed quickly however, and she found herself shifting her hips to press into his thigh, enjoying the friction caused by both their bodies and their clothes. When she felt a hardness against her own thigh, she recognized it for what it was and rubbed her thigh from side to side, unsure but hoping he would enjoy it as much as she enjoyed what he was doing.

Lisa didn’t know if Robert liked it, but he did suddenly give up on her breasts and rise up to claim her mouth again in a kiss that was almost violent in its need. She immediately began plucking at his clothes again, trying to remove them so that she could feel his skin against hers, but Robert suddenly caught her wrists and lifted them over her head, then held them there with one hand as his other reached down to drag up her skirts.

Lisa tore her mouth away on a gasp and tugged fretfully at her hands, her body writhing beneath his as he pushed her skirts up her legs.

“Robert, please,” she groaned, and then cried out as his hand suddenly slid between her legs.

“Christ, you’re already wet,” Robert muttered into her neck, nipping her there.

“Sorry,” she muttered with embarrassment, which simply made him laugh. Lisa didn’t understand what amused him, but in the next moment didn’t care as he slid one finger into her, forcing an “Oh God,” from her lips and making her buck into the caress.

“Are you tender?” he growled with concern.

Lisa shook her head, incapable of speech as she shimmied under his touch.

“Thank God,” he muttered, and released her hands to reach down between them without the necessity of having to stop caressing her.

Lisa immediately clasped his shoulders and held on as she bucked under his touch, but stilled briefly when his hand was suddenly withdrawn and something else pressed against her. She held her breath as he found the right angle, and then released a long groan as their bodies merged.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his hips. He claimed her lips again in a quick, hard kiss. Then he rose up, caught her ankles and lifted them to his shoulders so that he could hold her hips and pound into her.

Lisa stared up at him in amazement, shocked at this new position. She then closed her eyes and bit her lip on a moan as one of his hands reached for a breast. The other slid between them to caress her again even as he thrust himself in and out.

As fast and furious as it had started, it ended just as quickly. Within moments, Lisa was writhing in the straw and crying out as pleasure exploded over her. This time there was no delay and Robert joined her in that hazy explosion, his own cry joining hers. Lisa clutched desperately at his arms as they rode out their pleasure, and then clasped him tight to her when it ended and he lowered himself to lie on top of her. He stayed there only a moment though, his weight a pleasant caress, before he rolled onto his back in the straw, taking her with him.

Robert continued to hold her close and she felt him press several kisses to the top of her head before he relaxed. After a few minutes his breathing grew slow and steady and she knew he’d dozed off again, just as he had last night. Lisa had joined him in sleep then, but didn’t now. They couldn’t afford to be caught in the stables like this.

Easing from his embrace, she sat up and glanced around, wondering where the naïve, young, romantic Lisa had gone as she took in the setting they were in. She’d just had her skirts tossed up in a stable. Brilliant. The sad thing was, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. It had felt too damned good.

Sighing, she pushed her skirts back down her legs, and then tucked her breasts away in her dress and eased to her feet. She had been telling the truth when he’d asked if she was tender. She hadn’t been, but was a bit now and the realization brought a grimace to her face. But she supposed it was to be expected. Her body wasn’t used to such activity.

Lisa quickly brushed down her skirts, removing the bits of straw stuck to her, then felt her hair and removed any stray strands there. She then glanced back to Robert uncertainly. She couldn’t just leave him here like this, but on the other hand, she had no desire to talk to him at that moment. He would just say she couldn’t marry Findlay, or insist she had to marry him now, or some such thing and she didn’t wish to deal with it all now.

After a hesitation, she slid from the stall and moved to the open stable doors. Pausing there, Lisa glanced back, and then stepped out into the rain and slammed the door closed, making sure to make as much of a racket as she could. She then peered through a knothole, relaxing when Robert suddenly stood up, popping into view. The noise had done its job. He was awake.

Turning abruptly, Lisa raced for the house, heading for the French doors to Richard’s office rather than risk running into anyone in the kitchens. What she hadn’t counted on was finding Richard actually in, seated at his desk.