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Beatrice snapped out of her perusal of his lips and struggled not to squirm in embarrassment. She shouldn’t have been so blatant in her study of him, but there was nothing she could say that would explain her curiosity. He held her so tightly against him that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek, and the steady thump of his heart next to hers, it was a truly mesmerising experience that she wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to come to an end.
Unfortunately, in that moment the horse stumbled and jolted them both, and in doing so prevented her having to answer him. Her gasp was squeezed out of her by the steely cords of his arms which tightened around her waist and drew her protectively against his warmth.
“It’s alright, he won’t let you fall,” he murmured reassuringly.
Beatrice merely nodded. Words failed her. She couldn’t get her mind to focus on anything other than how wonderfully precious he made her feel and, in the space of a few short minutes, and very few words, had made her reassess her opinion of him. This man was definitely not cold and aloof; austere and somewhat forbidding. This man was deeply, intensely, mesmerising. His blatant masculinity had captured her; ensnared her, and refused to let her go, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she minded one bit.
Ben stared at the gate and struggled to remember which direction her house was in. His mind refused to focus on anything other t
han the feel of her in his arms. It was so disturbingly tempting to know that all he had to do was turn his head and his lips would practically be on hers. He struggled to keep his face impassive because he knew that in spite of her curiosity, if she saw any hint of his true emotions on his face, she would be afraid. He had to maintain some sort of emotional distance right now, even if he couldn’t create a physical one, because it was far too soon in their acquaintance for him to kiss her. However, when she continued to study him so intently, he couldn’t ignore her a moment longer. In spite of their closeness, he looked down at her, and was immediately ensnared by her beauty once more.
His heart flipped at the sight of the rainwater on her face, and the loose tendrils of hair that there plastered to her rosy cheeks but, if at all possible, she looked more stunning than ever before.
“Why did you not tell me you were hurt, Beatrice?” He was careful to keep any hint of accusation out of his voice but waited a little impatiently for her to reply.
“I didn’t realise just how bad my ankle was, really,” she replied quietly. “I mean, it hurt, but I thought that if I could cut across the field then I could get home before the thunderstorm struck. Unfortunately, the field is rougher than I thought it was and it has just made my ankle hurt more.”
“I meant, why didn’t you ask for my help back in the lane? I could have left you, you know.”
“I just thought I could hobble my way home by myself,” she replied weakly. “You have only got one horse after all and – well –”
“What happened anyway? How did you do it?” Ben frowned at the lane ahead of them, and tried to keep control of his temper.
Beatrice briefly explained what had happened with the carriage and watched a dark scowl settle over his face.
“Did you see the driver?” He demanded, and tried to remember if he had seen a large black carriage head this way when he had left the church.
If he was honest, he hadn’t seen much of anything because he had been so angry about Mrs Underwick’s malicious comments that he hadn’t bothered to take a good look around him. He had wanted to catch one last look at Beatrice before he went home so much that he could have passed ten large, black carriages and not been aware of it.
“The driver didn’t slow down or even look back at me. He was going so fast that I only caught a glimpse of him as he passed but have no idea if he is local, or likely to be just passing through.” She sighed and looked ruefully down at her foot. “By the time I regained my balance, he had gone.”
“You could have permanently injured yourself,” he grumbled darkly.
She glanced at him, a little abashed at his concern. “I should have asked you, I know. I am sorry that I allowed my stupid pride to get in the way.”
“It is all sorted now, so don’t worry about it,” he sighed. If he was honest, he wasn’t angry with her because he was so relieved that he had finally managed to get her to talk to him.
When he glanced up, he was more than a little disconcerted to see the rooftop of her house in the distance and calculated that they had about another ten minutes together. It was a little shocking to realise just how much he regretted the fact that their journey was going to come to an end before he could find a way to get to see her again. He lapsed into thoughtful silence as he steered the horse out of the field and back onto the lane while he tried to come up with a way to extend the journey.
“Thank you for coming back for me, Mr Addison,” she said as she tried to keep her attention on the lane before them rather than the man who seemed to be wrapped around her.
“Please call me Ben, and you are very welcome. I am glad that I was passing.” He didn’t tell her that it wasn’t happenchance that he had been in the lane. Like some besotted, lovelorn fool, he had been trying to catch one last glimpse of her before she had gone home for the day but, luckily, this time Fate appeared to be smiling down on him and he had been able to ride to her rescue. “Let’s try to get out of this rain before the thunderstorm strikes, shall we?”
He smiled down at her. As if to prove that Fate was indeed on his side, a large rumble of thunder swept through the sky directly above their heads. Ben glanced up at the dark clouds and knew that the rain was about to get considerably worse. He nudged the horse into a faster walk and kept his gaze trained on the end of her driveway. However, before they got half-way there, the low rumble of carriage wheels intermingled with the sound of the rain.
She gaze locked with Ben’s and she turned to study the lane in front and behind them in search of the source of the noise.
“Jesus,” Ben swore as a large black monstrosity sped around the corner and raced toward them. He barely had the time to manoeuvre his horse to the side of the road before the carriage raced past them at breakneck speed.
“That’s the carriage,” Beatrice cried as she stared over his shoulder after it. “That’s the same one that nearly ran me over.”
Ben glanced behind him and hoped it would fall over if it attempted to take the corner at the end of the lane at that speed. The reckless fool deserved to have an accident. He nudged his startled horse into a trot and gritted his teeth when Beatrice began to bounce against his already painfully aware body. To test his resolve further, her arms tightened around him as she clung on for dear life, which in turn pressed her delectable curves against him more fully. In spite of the rain, he felt beads of sweat pop out onto his brow, and kept his gaze locked firmly on the front door of her house while silently praying that he could keep control until he got her to safety.
Lord, save me, Ben prayed and he clenched his jaw while he tried desperately to think of something else. The only outward sign of his inner struggle was the muscle that ticked slowly in his jaw. All thought of the carriage was temporarily forgotten while he tried to retain some semblance of control over the physical effect she had on him, but it was a close run thing, especially when he glanced down and saw the pink tip of her tongue slide nervously over her luscious lips.
Beatrice almost wept with relief when Ben guided the horse into the driveway. The sight of her front door ahead of them had never felt so wonderful to her but, before she could ask him if he would like a cup of tea before he left, he quickly dismounted and helped her down. She had taken no more than a couple of steps before he immediately swept her off her feet again, and carried her to the front doorstep.
“You don’t need to carry me,” she grumbled awkwardly.
