Robertson pulled her close and deepened the kiss.
She couldn’t get close enough. She felt starved for affection, and if Robertson’s kisses were any indication, he felt the same. At least, she hoped he did. She wanted to stay out there for the rest of the evening, but their interlude was cut short when they heard voices on the balcony.
“Seems our time has come to an end, Olivia dear. I’d very much like to have more private time with you. Would you care to join me for a ride in the morning?”
Olivia nodded. “I’d love to, Everett.”
He held out his arm to her, and they rejoined the rest of the guests in the parlor.
Olivia volunteered to play the pianoforte next so Bett could dance with Mr. Hughes. She loved seeing her friend so happy and wondered if Bett was falling in love with him. It wouldn’t surprise her, especiallygiven her friend’s stated desire to meet someone. Was Mr. Hughes the man to sweep her off her feet?
From the little Bett had told her about the man, Mr. Hughes’s uncle was Viscount Fletcher, and his cousin was the heir. Mr. Hughes adored them both and spent most summers at their country estate. He owned a small townhouse in London and had been quite successful with his latest investments. He was probably more well-off than most noblemen, but he never flaunted his wealth. Olivia was happy to see that he was such an upstanding gentleman, especially with the way he acted toward her friend. The last thing she wanted was for Bett to fall for a fortune hunter.
Everett didn’t leave her side for the rest of the evening, even after she finished playing the pianoforte. She knew something wonderful was happening to her.
She felt self-confident for the first time in her life, and she liked it.
When she finally retired for the evening, she fell asleep dreaming of kissing Everett’s lips again and again.
Chapter 17
Robertson paced in front ofthe stables, waiting for Olivia to come. Where was she? The past week had passed in a haze of pleasure—the pleasure of kissing Olivia’s sweet lips and just spending time with her. They’d gone on numerous walks in the garden, as well as a few trips to the village. She wasn’t a frivolous young woman, preferring the bookstore to the modiste’s shop, and he’d made a note of the types of books she selected. No matter how much time they spent in each other’s company, he wanted more—more time, more conversations, more kisses… Most definitely more kisses.
It was so unlike him to crave a woman’s presence. He’d always held himself at a distance, never favoring one lady over another.
What was happening to him?
Olivia was happening to him.
Each morning when he opened his eyes, he sprang out of bed like a schoolboy, knowing the first thing he’d get to do was go riding with the woman he so greatly admired. He’d been pleased to see her grow in confidence each day. She was radiant, and he wanted to devour every inch of her, but would she be willing to take that next step with him? Even after the past eight days in her company, he wasn’t sure. Today, he was going to ask if he could come to her bedchamber this evening after everyone retired. Would she allow it? He sincerely hoped so.
“Good morning, Lord Robertson,” Olivia said.
Robertson spun around. He’d been so busy thinking about the lady that he missed her approach. “Good morning, Lady Armstrong. You look enchanting as ever.”
“Thank you, my lord. I do love that hunter-green jacket you’re wearing. It’s a stunning color.”
Robertson chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell Bryer of your compliment. He’ll be thrilled to know his choices meet with your approval.”
The stablemaster brought out Hades and Clara, and Robertson lifted Olivia into the saddle before mounting the stallion. They followed their usual pattern of racing across the meadow to the stream where the horses could drink.
He lifted her off her horse and let her body slide down his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against his hard planes. She was magnificent, and he was on fire. There was no other way to describe the burning, pulsating beat within him.
“My lady…” he whispered as his mouth devoured hers.
Their kisses were more intense, more passionate than anything they’d indulged in before. He reached up to undo the topmost buttons of her riding habit, never once breaking their connection.
When she didn’t pull away, he released a few more buttons until the soft mounds of her bosom were visible to his greedy eyes. He ran a row of kisses down the column of her neck, stopping in the sweet hollow of her throat to taste her. Her breath hitched.
“Do you like this, sweet lady?”
“Yes. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“I want to kiss every inch of your delectable skin,” he said, reaching to undo more buttons.
She stopped his hand. “Not here, my lord. Anyone may come by and see us.”
As much as he didn’t want to stop, he took a step back. “We’ve not seen anyone at all this past week. Is there something wrong?”
