Page 33 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Something inside Noelle pulsed in response. Yes.

His lips settled hotly on the other hand.

Oh, yes.

“Enough?” Richard whispered. “We have demonstrated love, but what about passion?”

Noelle couldn’t bring herself to move. Her breathing quickened, and her knees felt abominably weak.

“Only a passionate woman would ride ventre à terre to the man she loves.” He turned her hands over and cupped them in his large ones. “You, my sweet, are the essence of passion.”

His lips pressed, hot and moist, into one palm and then the other. The pulsing inside her deepened to a throb.

She couldn’t help it. She whimpered, staring at his lips and her hand.

His tongue reached out and gently, devastatingly, licked her palm.

Dieu du ciel. His arms surrounded her and his heady aroma overwhelmed her senses. She drank it in through her very pores. I love you. Oh, how I love you. She pressed her face into the hollow at his throat.

No.

She made a small despairing sound, and immediately his arms loosened. He pushed up her chin and deposited a swift kiss on her lips. “You do love me, and you know it.”

“You tricked me, vaurien.” She pushed away, but he tightened the circle of his arms again. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.” Deliberately, she wiped her hand on her skirt.

Something twitched in his cheek, but he said coolly, “I only did what you agreed to, my love, and then you fell into my arms. What clearer invitation could there be?” He lifted a few stray hairs from her cheek. “We need to talk.”

Noelle shook her head and drew away, and this time he let her go. “No. We don’t. Not about that, anyway.”

“And what, pray tell, is ‘that?’” He toyed with her hair.

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Richard, the excisemen are everywhere. They were at Johnny’s camp this morning, but he’s gone. Is Johnny all right?”

Richard’s fingers stilled. Did he think she cared more for Johnny than for him?

Rightly so, she reminded herself. Johnny was a good, kind man. Richard was a heartless libertine.

She found herself explaining anyway. “They shot him, and Lucretia bandaged him last night.”

“Courageous of her.” Richard’s fingers moved again, pulling out pins, spreading her thick, tangled curls around her shoulders. Her body longed to melt against his. She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath of chilly air to counteract the effect of his touch.

She said briskly, “Yes, isn’t it? But she said he’d been bleeding dreadfully, and this morning Uncle Matthew told us your grooms removed his wagon.”

Richard let her go and handed her a fistful of hairpins. “So that the excisemen wouldn’t destroy it. They’re no doubt stinging at being duped by a tinker and his dog last night. My carpenter will repair the wagon, and in the meantime, Johnny has been patched up and is asleep in the chamber next to mine.”

A gardener appeared around the side of the house with a wheelbarrow full of soil. He paused to tug his forelock. “I wish you very happy, my lord, Miss Noelle.”

Guiltily, Noelle thanked him and lowered her voice as the gardener trundled away. They moved toward the house. “There’s an exciseman watching Sir William Luttrow’s stables. I saw him in the trees by the stream and came to warn you. I don’t think he saw me. Will you order him off your land?”

Richard cocked his head. “I don’t think so. He won’t search without Sir William’s permission. It will be much more fun taking the contraband out from under his nose.”

“Sir William will give permission. He’s dead set against smuggling. If the brandy in his stables is seized, I shudder to think what will happen to Jackson.” When Richard looked blank, she said, “His head groom. He came here after you left.”

“We can only hope Sir William is away for the moment. There’s not much in there, if I recall the list correctly—only a few tubs. We’ll move them from his stables this morning.” He plucked Noelle’s hat from a puddle.

“How?” Noelle’s voice rose. “We can’t go carting tubs across the countryside.”

“Hush! I have everything under control.”