The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret (19 page)

‘Don’t think of it, otherwise it will spoil our ride.’

‘But...the risk if we are caught...’

He grinned. ‘I’m prepared to risk it if you are. It will be well worth it.’

She returned his smile, too excited with anticipation of the ride to care.

‘Let’s get you into the saddle and we’ll be away. To have ordered the groom to fit a side-saddle onto the horse’s back would have raised eyebrows, so you will have to ride astride.’

She laughed, thrilled by the prospect of being back on a horse. ‘I ride no other way.’

Chapter Seven

L
isette sat tall and straight-backed in the saddle; her shoulders were slim and square, her head erect instead of submissively bent as becomes a gently nurtured woman. But to Ross riding beside her as they rode among the green-clad hills, her plain servant’s garb seemed to emphasize her femininity far more than the graceful folds of a lady’s velvet habit. The straight lines of her body showed the swell of her breasts and her slender waist and rounded hips.

The mare was galloping at full stretch, and it was doubtful anyone could have turned her—but Lisette made no effort to do so, as she crouched over the saddlehorn with her weight thrown forward and without any idea where they were going.

At first she worried Ross with her recklessness, bent so low over her horse’s neck with her face almost buried in the dancing mane, riding as no lady should and astride. But his fears were soon dispelled. She was one of the most skilled riders he’d ever seen—man or woman—light and lovely in the saddle. He gave a shout of laughter as Bengal thundered over the hard green turf alongside her. Riding at breakneck pace, Lisette took each jump with an effortless, breezy unconcern for style that Ross had never seen before. He grinned approvingly. There was jubilant simplicity as she soared over each jump, at one with her mount—confident, trusting and elated—its tail floating behind like a bright defiant banner.

They had been too occupied to pay much attention to how far they had ridden. Dreading the moment when she would have to dismount, they slowed their horses to a walk.

‘I never knew a woman could ride like that,’ Ross exclaimed with an admiring laugh. She was smiling broadly, her generous lips drawn back over perfect white teeth, and her colour was gloriously high. ‘I think it’s time we turned back.’

The horses wandered forward unchecked, pausing occasionally to crop a mouthful of grass and moving on again while their riders were content to go with them. Coming to the brow of a hill they paused and looked down the slope at parkland which rolled away into the distance. Lisette’s eye was caught by some sort of encampment with an assortment of brightly painted caravans and carts. Some of them had a shabby appearance. Dogs roamed and several piebald and skewbald ponies grazed nearby. While children played, men and women stood about talking and others sat around a fire where ribbons of smoke spiralled upwards out of the embers. Swarthy skinned and with shiny black hair, they had a foreign look about them. Gold earrings glinted in some of the men’s ears and brightly coloured scarves were tied loosely around their necks.

‘Who are those people?’ Lisette asked curiously.

‘Gypsies.’

‘Are they trespassing?’

‘No. They have permission to set up camp in the park. They always come at this time of year to help with the harvest.’

‘Are they harmful?’

‘As a rule, no. They’re hardworking people and always behave themselves. They abide by the law of the land while they are here. Their help is invaluable.’

They rode on. On reaching the barn where they had started from, Ross swung himself out of the saddle and went to assist Lisette, who was most reluctant to get down.

‘Thank you so much,’ she said, taking a moment to rub the spirited mare’s wet muzzle against her palm. ‘It was wonderful to be back on a horse again. I can’t tell you what it means to me. I had a horse—she was called Silva. She was so beautiful.’

Ross moved to stand behind her. ‘What happened to her?’

‘I left her with Messalina.’

Placing his hands on her waist and drawing her hair aside, Ross kissed her nape. ‘Well,’ he murmured, his breath warm on her flesh, ‘since you don’t want money or fancy jewels from me—and to present you with a horse would raise more than a few scandalised eyebrows—I shall have to give you a present you will approve of.’

She trembled, casting about feebly for her ability to resist him. ‘Please—please don’t do this. I really must be getting back....’

‘Why?’ he breathed, his whisper fraught with wicked seduction, taking her earlobe gently between his teeth. ‘It’s your day off, remember. You have all the time in the world—and so have I.’ He turned her to face him and drew her into his arms.

‘This is how we held on to each other that night, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘I have a confession to make.’

‘What is it?’

‘I knew that night that if the river had risen, neither of us would have seen the dawn. We would have been washed away like so much flotsam.’

‘I know. I was so afraid. If I hadn’t had you to hold me...’

‘We shared a moment in our lives known only to us—binding us together like nothing else can.’

Keeping one arm securely around her waist, with his free hand he lightly traced his finger down her cheek to her chin. He gazed at her lips, at the soft rose-tinted curves he was beginning to know so well. Their shape was etched on his mind, their taste imprinted on his senses. ‘I came up here because I wanted to be alone with you, Lisette.’

Lisette’s entire body began to vibrate with a mixture of shock, desire and fear. It was one thing to be kissed by him in the middle of a raging river, but here, with absolute privacy and nothing to prevent him from taking all sorts of liberties, it was another matter entirely. Struggling desperately to ignore the sensual pull he was exerting on her, she drew a long, shaky breath.

‘Why should you think I wanted to be alone with you?’

His relentless gaze locked on hers. ‘Because I remember how it felt to hold you in my arms that night in the river.’

‘It was both dangerous and foolish.’

‘Foolish or not,’ he murmured, ‘I wanted you. We wanted each other. I want you now.’ Lisette made the mistake of looking at him, and his deep blue eyes captured hers against her will, holding them imprisoned. ‘Neither of us has anything to gain by continuing this pretence that what happened in India is over and forgotten. When I kissed you in Araminta’s room it proved that it wasn’t over. I’ve remembered you all this time, Lisette—and I know damn well you remembered me.’

Lisette wanted to deny it but couldn’t. ‘Yes—all right,’ she said shakily, ‘I never did forget you. How could I?’ she added defensively. ‘I would have drowned if it had not been for you.’

He smiled and his voice gentled to the timbre of rough velvet. ‘Yes, you would. Now, come here.’

‘Why?’ she whispered.

‘So that we can finish what we began that night.’

Lisette stared at him, fear mixed with violent excitement. ‘How?’

Lowering his head Ross lightly touched her lips with his own, feeling the heat, the compulsion, that surged in each of them. He held from pressing down on her lips, content for one timeless moment simply to touch and be touched, but not denying it. The beauty of the fragile moment stretched, their heightened awareness washing over them.

Curiously breathless, Lisette quivered. A small, insidious voice in her mind urged her to enjoy this time they were together, that she was entitled to some stolen passionate kisses if she wanted them. Another voice warned her not to break the rules of convention and leave him. But it was too late. She was already losing the battle to resist the desire that engulfed her whenever they were close. It was an effort to raise her heavy lids. At that moment her mind emptied itself of all thought. She was proud, but she was also young and sensual.

A blankness took over and with a soft sigh she relaxed against him, warm and trusting as he began to kiss her neck, teasing her senses into glorious awakening for him, her power to push him away fading fast. When he raised his head she offered him her mouth and he claimed her lips immediately, his arms going round her, and she revelled in his embrace despite her earlier determination not to let this happen. She closed her eyes tight to concentrate on the sensation. His mouth moved against hers, and it seemed natural to part her lips. Her mouth and body had suddenly become extra sensitive, so that she could feel the slightest touch.

At length he ended the kiss and held her fevered stare. At that moment they smiled into each other’s eyes like equals. When he took her hand she did not resist as he led her inside the barn where he removed his jacket and dragged her into his arms once more. His lips found hers, finding them eager, warm, parted and moist. She clung to him, her arms about his neck. His shirt was fine lawn. Through it she could feel the heat of him.

Their bodies fitted together, and her very softness tensed his muscles, her curves fit against him, their mouths fused, moving, caressing, their tongues touching. He put his hand to her head, entwining his fingers in her hair which fell in a shining black mane of living silk down her spine. She lifted her chin and his lips slipped beneath it and along her jaw. He was murmuring her name as he kissed her breasts through her gown, and then, eager to view her beautiful body unfettered, his hands went to the tiny buttons of her bodice which slipped open and the ribbons of her chemise needed no more than a tug to release them. The bounty he’d captured, their softness filled his hand, and lowering his head he took the hardness of her rosy nipples in his mouth.

His lips burned and Lisette gasped with sheer pleasure. He pushed away her dress and slipped it from her shoulders. Her chemise soon followed, bearing her aching breast fully to the soft light, the warm air and his attentions. His hands moved with infinite care as he began to remove her clothes, pausing now and then to caress and to fondle, roaming above her stockings and venturing above her garters, meeting bare skin. When there was nothing else to remove, swinging her up into his arms he carried her across the barn and laid her down on a pile of hay, a lovely bed, soft and ready for them.

Lisette watched as he stripped himself of the covering of civilisation to reveal his beautiful male body, brown and hard and eager. That was the moment she was made to realise that there was no going back, no escaping what was to happen and at last she accepted it.

Joining her in the hay he gathered her to him, her breath feathering his cheek as her fingers lightly touched him, sliding, gliding over his flesh, cindering his will.

‘Show me,’ she breathed. He was all heat and shockingly hot hardness. ‘Show me what to do.’ She wanted to know all of it.

Her words vanquished the last of Ross’s resistance, the last remnant of caution. She was exuding something else besides the fragrance of flowers. It was as if some part of her, hitherto hidden or held back from others, was being offered to him. He wanted her with every fibre of his being, and she wanted him. Those demons that drove him urged him on, lending their talents to achieving victory in the most satisfying way. Reaching down he caressed her legs, his hand slowly moving up her inner thigh. Lisette gasped. All thoughts beyond this place, this moment, this man, fled. Forbidden pleasure turned to bliss as his lips kissed every part of her and his knowledgeable fingers explored those secret places known only to her.

They beguiled her until a delicious tension coiled so tightly inside her it broke loose with a vengeance. His face was a mass of concentration etched with passion as he intimately learned all about her, filling his male senses with her feminine secrets, driving her to a sensual excitement with practised ease. She melted, sinking into the soft hay, moaning, arching. In that moment, totally aroused, he could have taken her. She was his to do with as he willed. She was his instrument. Her body and, more alarmingly, her soul were fully open to him.

Ross felt her surrender and inwardly smiled, satisfied that she was taking all he lavished on her. He held her for one aching moment, and then he covered her and thrust powerfully, deep into her body, breaching her maidenhead. She cried out and he held still for just a moment, before his demons claimed him and drove him on, far beyond thought and reason.

Lisette clung to him, holding tight as their passion took flight, every sensation new, battering her overloaded senses. She thrilled to each new intimacy, determined to feel it all, to know the sheer hard delight of his body anchoring her, to glory in the hardness that filled her, claiming her, to sense her vulnerability in her nakedness, to revel in the shameless excitement that swelled and grew, then flooded her—more powerful than desire, deeper, more enduring than anything she had experienced in her life. She gave herself up to it, sharing it through her hungry kisses, through the worship of his body. And then he let go, allowing his body to do what came naturally and driving them both over the edge as the explosion broke over them.

Breathing heavily, their bodies damp with sweat, Ross felt the shudders rack him. Lisette felt, deep inside her, the strong ripples of his release, and then he became still. It was only then that he came to his senses, reminding himself of the inevitable consequences of what he had just done.

‘Lisette?’ he whispered, bracing himself on his arms and looking down at her. ‘Open your eyes and look at me,’ he commanded quietly.

Her lashes fluttered and he stared down into the warm amber of her eyes. ‘Did I hurt you?’

She swallowed and shook her head, fighting down the wanton urge to plead with him to take her again, to beg him to love her not just with his body but his heart also, which was what she wanted more than anything in the world. In a few short minutes he had broken down every barrier she had erected against him, battered down her defences and left her weak and eager for him as if she’d been a naive girl.

‘Then why the sad face?’ he murmured. ‘You do...want me, Lisette?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted in a fierce, suffocated little voice. ‘But...I don’t
want
to want you.’

A sound part groan, part laughter escaped him as he shoved his fingers through her lustrous hair, imprisoning her face between his hands. ‘And I want you,’ he told her, kissing her flushed cheek, ‘more than you will ever know.’

‘You shouldn’t.’

Placing his finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face to his. ‘I told you that I do not play the game according to society’s rules, that I write my own. In bed or out of it, I consider you my equal in every way, Lisette. Never forget that.’