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That clear avoidance didn’t mean he could stop staring at her. Stop envisioning her half naked, her skirts pushed up high on her thighs, his lips dragging down her skin.
He shifted on the saddle of his horse, pulling his foot from the stirrup and stretching his left leg far out along the flank of his mount. The upcoming village couldn’t come fast enough. They needed to change out the horses and he needed to walk. Separate himself from her for a few minutes before he started fixating on the delicate skin along her neck and thoughts that were unattainable.
Evan nodded to a woman sweeping the threshold of an outlying cottage of the village and his gaze lifted to Juliet. “When you said you didn’t want to ride in a carriage today and would rather travel on horseback, I was worried about our progress, but you’re a fine rider.”
She looked upward at the white, fluffy clouds dotting the blue sky. “It was too nice of a day and I loved riding when I was young. Riding with you yesterday reminded me of that.”
“So you did want to kick me off the horse—I thought as much.”
She chuckled. “I did, if I must be honest.” Her right hand lifted from the reins and she motioned her hand in a small circle in front of her. “I like to have my space and control my own horse.”
“You were taught well. That horse hasn’t given ye nary a speck of trouble, and I had my doubts when you picked her from the stable.”
“She’s a good one.” She leaned forward slightly to pat the neck of her mount. “Though I always did have good rapport with horses. They tend to like me and I tend to like them. My father, for a time, had a very nice stable of horses. Several fine racers. It’s been so long since I’ve ridden, though, I wasn’t sure how I would do.”
“You appear like you could outlast me.”
She looked him up and down. “I doubt that. But I still do have half a day left in me, at least enough to get toBirmingham.”
They slowed the horses to a stop in front ofthe stable yard positioned at the edgeof the town.
Evan dismounted and then assisted Juliet from her horse. He talked with the stablemaster and moved back to Juliet, watching as two stableboys came out from the barn and led the horses into the barn to change out their saddles onto new mounts. He pointed across the dusty lane to a line of shops. “I can go into the tavern and get you a pot pie or some bread to hold you until this eve? The roads get rougher in the next stretch, so I wouldn’t advise a great deal in your stomach. Or would you like to come inside and see what they have to offer?”
“Tea would do well.” Her hands smoothed down the front of her wrinkled pelisse. “Maybe a biscuit. Would you mind if I stayed outside? The air is doing wonders for my lungs.”
He nodded. “I’ll return in a few minutes, don’t wander far.”
She gave him a look that was half glare, half curiosity. Apparently, she wasn’t accustomed to men worrying about her. Or she didn’t care for the thought that she couldn’t handle her own being. Or possibly she didn’t care for him ordering her about. Most likely the latter.
Downing a tankard of ale, he peeked out the door of the tavern several times to check on Juliet as he was waiting for the cook to boil water for the tea. She’d taken to walking in a long figure eight on the grassy knoll beside the stables.
He didn’t know how to speak to women, and he knew even less on taking care of them. What was overbearing. What wasn’t.
At least Juliet was honest about what she expected out of him. Her stormy blue eyes inevitably told him everything she was thinking. For a woman that lied for a living, her eyes gave away the truth of her mind, if one only cared enough to look closely.
Still, he couldn’t squelch the urge to check on her to make certain she was fine.
With her tea in his left hand and her biscuit in his right, he dashed across the lane and interrupted her path before she could trek up the small hill again.
He handed her the tea and she grabbed the cup with both hands, blowing on the steaming liquid. She flicked her forehead to his other hand. “A biscuit?”
He held up the biscuit wrapped in a small square handkerchief. “I’m told the best in the valley. But it looks puny in my opinion.”
She shrugged. “Must be so rich it doesn’t need size.”
His gaze centered on her, his head tilting to the side. Why was it that so much of what she said made him wonder if she was talking about the matter at hand, or another matter entirely?
Sex. The lewd thoughts that hit him far too often when he looked at her, refusing to leave his cock in peace, made every word she uttered sound carnal.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? Size matters on most of the more important things in life.”
She looked at him blankly for a long silent moment and then her eyes opened wide. Her mouth parted and for a dreaded second, he didn’t know what would roll off her tongue.
Laughter.
Boisterous laughter. Laughter that didn’t stop even as she spoke. “I wasn’t thinking that at all. It didn’t even occur to me. But truly, Evan, you are so right. Rich will only get you so far…inside.”
Her words gave him leave to open his own mouth and laugh. A gut-twisting laugh that overtook hers.
